


Promises I Can Keep

by CelGames



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A combo of books and show, Angst, Arguing, Canon Compliant, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Rating May Change, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 04:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelGames/pseuds/CelGames
Summary: Arya returns to Westeros after a year at sea, and her first stop is the Stormlands.I’m going to try and stay within canon. RATING HAS CHANGED.





	1. King's Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya has a visitor.

Arya sat on her bed in the inn just outside the walls of King’s Landing, thinking about her siblings and their new royal positions, and Jon’s punishment. Her mind raced with everything that had been said at the council meeting earlier, and certain people she had seen. She definitely wasn’t about to think of _him_ , even if he did bleed into the edges of her mind.

She couldn’t bring herself to stay in the city, and she definitely couldn’t stay in the Red Keep, even though Bran had offered. Not after what she had been through, not after what she had seen in both of those places. The inn was more modest than what she would get in the city, but she wouldn’t be staying long. She had slept in much worse places. The sheets seemed clean and the food had been good. That was about all she required.

Someone knocked on her old but sturdy door and she grabbed her dagger.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me, but King Bran told me what inn you were at and I bribed the innkeeper to find out which was your room,” Gendry said loud enough for her to hear behind the door.

Arya closed her eyes and sighed, put her dagger back in her belt, then got up off her straw bed and unlocked the door. She opened it a crack, walked back across the room, and then stood there, arms crossed. He opened the door the rest of the way and stood in front of her, then realizing he left the door open, quickly shut it.

“This innkeeper must not be worried about the virtue of a woman traveling alone,” Arya complained.

Gendry snorted. “You’re Arya Stark. Any man dumb enough to come here to ‘take your virtue’ would surely end up dead along the side of the road somewhere,” he replied mockingly.

“Is that why you’re here?”

“To take your virtue? Ha. Can’t take what you’ve already got,” he quipped. She thought about killing him for saying that, but decided he wasn’t worth the effort at that point.

“Why aren’t you staying in King’s Landing now that you’re the lord of the Stormlands,” she questioned sarcastically.

“You’re a princess now, twice over, aren’t you? I could ask the same question,” he retorted. “I’m not sure why you’re mad at me. I’m the one who got rejected the last time we talked, remember?”

She didn’t have a reason to be mad at him, not really. It was just easier to keep him at arm’s length. She should be nicer. Gendry was still her friend.

Arya noticed he was still wearing the same thing from the council meeting earlier, where they had sat near each other, but didn’t talk. She saw him more clearly now than she had while trying to avoid him.

“What are these,” she asked, running her fingers down the white stitching on the shoulders of his doublet. They were meant to be visible.

“Wolf claw marks,” he replied, swallowing. “Direwolf.”

She looked up at him and smiled, and kept her hand on his shoulder. “You’re not a Stark.”

He put his hand over hers. “I love a Stark, just like my father did. And I’ll probably die without her, just like my father, but at least I know she cared for me a little,” he explained, his voice flat.

His blue eyes were full of pain, and she wanted more than anything to ease it. Gendry was her friend, her lover, and she didn’t want to hurt him. That’s why she had told him to let her go, but he just wouldn’t.

“I care for you a lot,” she admitted, and he leaned forward and placed his forehead on hers, taking her hands and wrapping them around him. She left her hands there across his back. He was warm and comforting, yet solid and strong.

“Jon said you have a ship and you’re going to go exploring. Arya, I’m not asking you to stay, I’m not, but when you come back, you can come back to me. That’s all I wanted to say,” Gendry offered. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers briefly, turned away, and headed back towards the door that led out of her room.

“Wait.” The word came out of her mouth before she could even think it. Gendry paused at the door. She walked towards him.

“I love you, Gendry. I do,” she admitted. She grabbed his arm and forced him to turn and look at her. “Stay with me tonight.”

His eyes widened. “Arya, I don’t think I can.” He looked into her eyes lovingly but then shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

Her face fell in disappointment, but she quickly turned her face blank. “I understand.” She did. It would be even harder for them to part if they had another night together. She walked with him towards the door again, her hand in his.

“I guess this is goodbye then,” she said. Her voice wavered for a tiny bit, but she recovered enough to give him a quick smile of reassurance.

Gendry put his hand on her cheek and smiled back at her. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Fuck.”

He bent his head forward and captured her lips again, much more insistent this time. She kissed him back, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. His hands were now all over her, touching her everywhere, her arms, her waist, her face. Then he abruptly stopped and she couldn’t help but whimper at the loss of him. Gendry gently pushed her away from him, putting space between them, and then walked past her, pacing around her room.

“Damn it Arya, why can’t I stop thinking about you? I’ve been in Storm’s End for months, and every time I lay down in bed at night, I think about you! And then I see you at the council, which I was very nervous about by the way, and you ignore me the whole time, but what do I do? I chase you down! I’m a bloody fool,” he demanded from her, throwing his hands up in the air. He wasn’t yelling, but she could sense his frustration, and her heart broke all over again.

“I think about you too, all the time,” she said weakly. She didn’t know what else to say.

“I have to go,” he said, with a tone of finality. He walked back to the door and opened it again. She had no right to stop him, she knew that, but she wanted to.

He turned around to look at her. “I meant what I said. If you come back, you can land at Shipbreaker Bay and Storm’s End is right there, waiting,” he told her.

She shook her head. “Don’t wait for me, Gendry. Please. If you find someone you can care about, please, don’t think of me anymore,” she implored him.

He just smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s my decision, innit?”

He shut the door and she heard his heavy footsteps walk down the hall. Arya wasn’t sure how she felt, it was all a jumble of emotions and love and heartache. She knew she would see him again though. She made that promise to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all angst. And yeah, they still love each other, they just can’t be together. Yet.
> 
> I will NEVER get over Gendry wearing his wolf claw outfit as long as I live. Boy knew what he was doing.


	2. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry gets some news. Arya tries to make a decision.

**Months later...**

The maester of Storm’s End came in through the door that Gendry had left open to his room. He was looking out the window at the harsh sea below. Gendry didn’t notice the maester, who set some scrolls down on the desk and quietly left.

Gendry finally snapped himself out of his reverie several minutes later, and noticed the scrolls. He summoned Davos, who promptly appeared from down the hall.

“What is it, lad?”

“Sorry, Davos, it’s nothing serious. It’s just that I’ve had two scrolls, and the maester left before I could ask him to read them to me.”

Davos picked up said scrolls and smiled. “Well, aren’t you popular? One is from Jon Snow, and the other is from King Bran himself. Do you care which I read first?”

Gendry shook his head, then sighed. “Nope.” He knew it was stupid to hope it was from Arya, but he couldn’t help his mind from going there every time.

“Alright then, I’ll read the one Jon wrote first. It’s bound to be a more exciting read,” Davos joked. Gendry gave him a small smile, but went back to staring out at the sea again.

_Gendry-_

_I have it on good authority that you know my sister Arya somewhat more than either you or her have ever quite let on. Rest assured, I’m not writing to tell you I’ll kill you for touching her or anything like that. Arya is her own woman and she makes her own decisions, and I consider you a friend and a good man. Whatever your relationship is concerns you two only._

_I’m writing because Bran has told me she will be there soon. He said he wrote a letter informing you of this also. I would dearly like to see her. We both always felt like outcasts in Winterfell: me, a bastard Stark, and her, wanting more than to be a lady. She is very dear to me, and you can probably imagine how I felt when I saw she was alive. I’m sure you felt the same._

Gendry was suddenly very attentive to what Davos was reading. Jon had sent him letters before, telling him how he was and news from up north, and he was grateful Jon considered him enough of a friend to keep him informed. He had even wrote back to Jon about his fears about being Lord Paramount. But the mention of Arya had piqued his interest more than any other subject they had discussed previously.

_I don’t expect the two of you to abandon your keep and see me all the way up here for so long, especially after you’ve been the Lord Paramount for such a short amount of time, and she will have just recently arrived. Instead, I would very much like to come there. I am already at Winterfell, and will be here for some time._

_Could Davos bring me there? He’s a very good smuggler, and I’m sure he has those connections still. I could disguise myself as one of Arya’s northern cousins, since I am, so it would not be a lie or dishonest to tell anyone._

_My friend, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. But you trusted me with the secret of your parentage, and so I feel that I can trust you. Please let me know as soon as you can._

_-Jon Snow_

Gendry whirled around to look at Davos in amazement. “Did he really say Arya was coming here? Please tell me that’s what he wrote,” Gendry asked excitedly. Davos was taken aback.

“Yes, lad, that’s what it said. Should I read King Bran’s scroll now? That way we can get confirmation of what Jon says,” Davos asked, amused.

“Yes, please, Davos.”

Davos gave him an inquiring look, but Gendry just smiled to himself. His thoughts were far away. He pulled them back in to hear Bran’s letter.

_To the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Gendry Baratheon,_

_I want to start out this letter by apologizing to you. I have told my sister and brother of your relationship with my other sister, but obviously I did not go into detail. I did not see it all myself when I looked into your past. I got a vague idea of what passed between the two of you, and that was enough._

_To make it up to you, I would like to inform you of a vision of the future I had the other night, and the reason I looked into your past with my sister. I rarely can see ahead in time, but this came to me in a dream. It was Arya in Storm’s End, talking with you in what Tyrion has informed me as Round Hall. He had the maester look up all information we had on your keep, as I was ignorant of it. I won’t describe anymore, as I don’t know if telling you will change the future somehow, so I think it will be best to keep it to myself. I wasn’t aware of any relationship between yourself and my sister, so I thought it prudent to investigate your past to see what it could mean. After doing so, however, it became clear. I want to assure you I only viewed small parts. I informed Jon and Sansa because I thought they may be confused if Arya came back and consented to be your wife. They might think you had manipulated her in some way, if that is possible, and I made the decision to inform them so they wouldn’t be too surprised._

_By what else I saw in the rest of the vision, however, I can determine that she will be there on the 14th day and the seventh month of the year. I couldn’t see her there any earlier than that._

_I do not get visions of the future unless it’s important. She needs to be in Storm’s End with you for some reason._

_On a personal note, I would like you to know that I am mostly sure she is still in love with you, and she has no other lover. I hope that brings you some happiness. I cannot see her all of the time, however._

_Please come to King’s Landing soon to report on the Stormlands. I would like to talk to my sister again. We had a short reunion in Winterfell, as you know, and I am anxious to learn more about how you two came to meet, in your own words._

_Bran Stark, King of the Andals and the First Men and Lord of the Six Kingdoms_

Gendry felt so elated he almost couldn’t breathe. She had almost been gone a year, and he hadn’t heard anything. No one had. But according to Bran, she would be here in a couple months.

“Should we get the room next to yours for the Lady of Storm’s End cleaned? I’m sure Lady Stark would appreciate it,” Davos inquired. He was still smiling like he had heard some joke that amused only him.

Gendry swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Good idea. Maybe we should also have her some clothes made? I don’t know if she has southern ones. It’s quite hot here in the summer. I should write Queen Sansa.” He stood up and started pacing around the room. “I should probably tell the guards on the wall to watch for her. Or should I wait on the wall for her? No, who knows what time of day she might get here.”

Davos chuckled. “Lad, it’s still months away. And I hate to be pessimistic here, but what if King Bran isn’t right about the date, or what if it was just an odd dream of his, not a vision?”

Gendry stopped in his tracks. “I’m sorry, Davos, but can you just let me believe it’s real? If she doesn’t show up, I’ve promised to marry one of the ladies in the Stormlands by the end of summer. So please, just let me have hope. If it’s false, I’ll get over it, at some point, and do my duty.” He knew he sounded slightly pathetic, but he didn’t really care.

Davos patted him on the shoulder and sighed. “Alright, lad. Alright. I’ll help you prepare for the arrival of Lady Stark.”

Gendry just nodded at him. Davos then quickly exited, leaving the scrolls behind. Gendry also left his room, deciding that he needed to walk. He needed space to figure out what he should do, what he should say. He told his guard for the night, Zak, that he didn’t need an escort as he exited the keep, but Zak argued that he shouldn’t walk alone and defenseless. So they compromised, and Gendry brought his warhammer with him down to the beach by himself.

The tide was low this time of day, but the waves were very intense. A far off storm loomed in the distance. His mind was racing. He had held out so much hope that Arya might return to Westeros one day. He knew Arya had wanted him to move on, and forget her, but how could he? Had she forgotten him quickly? Or was Bran right? Was she still in love with him, as he was with her?

Time had dulled the pain of her absence, and learning how to be Lord Paramount had certainly kept him distracted. But the mere mention of her name had brought all his emotions back up to the front of his existence.

He gazed out at the stormy waves that crashed against the sandy beach. “Please come back to me, Arya,” he whispered to the wind, hoping somehow it would carry to her, out on her ship, somewhere. He sighed, then started his way back to Storm’s End before it started to rain.

* * *

Arya was up top on her ship, looking out across the water. They had just left Braavos. She had been careful not to go near the House of Black and White, and yet she still felt anxious. Her crew had been restless lately, as if home had been calling them. She, too, had felt the pull towards Westeros again.

She spun around abruptly, a strange feeling washing over her. She looked back, seeing nothing but the calm sea and the bright sails of other nearby ships. Her first mate looked at her strangely.

“What is it, m’lady?”

Arya bit her lip, torn about what to do. But she knew her mind was made up.

“Turn around. We’ll return to Westeros. We can make some stops on the way down for supplies. I think it’s time to go home for awhile.”

“What part of Westeros do ye want to anchor at? King’s Landing?”

She remembered one of the last things Gendry had said before they had parted in King’s Landing and sighed. “We’ll make for Shipbreaker Bay.” 

She went below deck to her quarters before anyone could comment on their destination. It was a small room with just a bed and a trunk. What little belongings she had were in Winterfell. She sat on her bed and gazed out a porthole to the right of her, which afforded a small view of the ocean. She felt the ship come about and head in the opposite direction they had been sailing.

Her family was in that direction. Logic told her to go to Winterfell, or King’s Landing, or even to The Wall, if Jon was still there. And yet she had ordered her crew to head to the Stormlands, with barely a thought.

It wasn’t something she could explain, a fleeting moment of clarity about where she should sail next. It was as if the wind itself had whispered her name and told her where she longed to go. Back to her homeland. Back to him. 

She shook her head. “He’s probably married some girl in the Stormlands by now. I told him he should. What am I doing,” she pondered aloud. She paused. “But what if he hasn’t found someone. What if he did decide to wait?” She stood up and stood in front of the small window. She rested her head on the glass. Her heart was beating wildly, and her thoughts were in turmoil.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

* * *

_To the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Gendry Baratheon-_

_My brother, Bran, has made me aware of your relationship with my sister, Arya, and my other brother, Jon, speaks quite highly of you. I look forward to seeing you one day. Perhaps, if what Bran says is true, it will be at the wedding._

_The Starks and Baratheons were great allies in our father’s time, and if a marriage between my sister and yourself does indeed take place, I foresee a continuation of that relationship for many years, even after our own deaths. Even though The North has left the kingdoms, I still wish to maintain friendships in them. Even though it seems like a peaceful time in Westeros, we both know how quickly that can turn, and should the need arise, I would like to assure you that the North would come to the aid of the Stormlands, and I hope the Stormlands would reciprocate._

_My sister’s few possessions will be arriving in a wagon along with some southern clothes I and my seamstresses have made for her. If Bran’s vision is incorrect, all I ask is that you return them to me for safekeeping._

_I shall pray everyday to the gods, old and new, that Arya will return safely, and that she finally finds happiness and peace with you at Storm’s End._

_-Queen of the North, Sansa Stark_

Davos put down the scroll as Gendry paced around his solar. Davos just sat, amused, and watched as Gendry worked himself into a state.

“Well, what do you think lad?”

“Well, it seems to me that Queen Sansa is hoping to make some kind of alliance, which could be beneficial to both of our kingdoms. The Starks have a hold in many places in Westeros, and I definitely don’t want them as an enemy,” Gendry replied after some thought.

Davos smiled. “Yes, the Starks are quite influential. If Lady Arya does come here and accept your proposal, they will have gained even more. Not that you were ever much of an enemy to the Starks,” he observed.

Gendry smiled. “No, I have much respect for House Stark. I stayed in Winterfell for a time, same as you. You can’t stay there and not admire them.” 

Davos turned serious, the wrinkles on his face becoming more prominent. “Lad, we should really talk about who should become your betrothed if Lady Arya doesn’t arrive.”

Gendry turned from Davos to stare out a window at the sea below. It had been storming all day and the waves were crashing hard against the cliffs. Gendry’s brain felt similar. In turmoil.

“I said no, Davos. I won’t think about her not coming. If she doesn’t, you can pick whoever you think is best. It won’t matter,” he said flatly. 

Davos just sighed, but he didn’t argue with him. He just nodded at him, got up, and left the room.

The memory of her hadn’t faded from his mind. The way she had looked at him the last time they had kissed. The color of her eyes. Every word she had said to him. It was still all there. Did she remember, too? Or would she have already moved on? Only time would tell.

* * *

“We’ll be arriving in Shipbreaker Bay in two days, m’lady. I shall write ahead and get some horses. Would you like to write your family? Or any friends,” Arya’s first mate asked her on the deck of the ship. The sea was calm again today, but the wind was strong. It was coming from the west, which looked dark in the distance.

“No. I’m sure Bran will know I’m coming, somehow. I’m not sure where I shall go first, anyway. Thank you for your consideration.” Her first mate bowed, and returned to his cabin.

Arya bit her lip. She had thought her mind was made up to go to Storm’s End most days, but then she’d lose her nerve and think that maybe she ought to skip it and go to King’s Landing. They had already gone past it, though. It seemed silly to sail to a more dangerous bay and then backtrack to King’s Landing.

She looked out at the open water. Her long brown hair whipped around her face in the breeze. Two days. She had two days to decide her fate in Westeros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add this in. It's kind of corny but eh, I love it. #melodramatic


	3. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya returns to Westeros.

**Two days later...**

Arya was nervous, though she wouldn’t let anyone see it. Her face was a stoic mask. As her trusty ship docked after a treacherous sail through Shipbreaker Bay, and her loyal crew filed back out to their homes all throughout the kingdoms, bidding her goodbye and good luck, she gazed once again upon her homeland. Westeros.

Well, the Stormlands weren’t really her home. Nowhere was really, anymore. When Arya had first returned to Winterfell after leaving Braavos, she hoped it might feel more like it, but it hadn’t. So she had sailed off, determined to find it somewhere out in the great unknown, but she hadn’t found it there either.

She walked up the steep, rocky hill to the road alone, making sure all the others had departed before her. She had changed back to her southern clothes on the ship, the weather turning a bit hotter now that it was early summer. She kept one hand on Needle as she ventured forward.

She had barely gotten on the white horse her first mate had procured for her before she heard a great many horses riding up to her. She waited for the person she knew it would inevitably be and slid off her horse in preparation for his arrival.

Bran appeared, on horseback, with Ser Podrick right behind him, along with an armed group of men and several wagons after that. Arya curtsied.

“Hello, your grace,” she said solemnly, looking down at the ground. She glanced a look up at him. Bran looked at her the way he looked at everyone, vacant and yet omniscient. He nodded his head and frowned.

“You’ve been gone for only a year, and yet your presence has been missed by many.” His short, black hair looked unruly from riding, his face was less pale, and his frame was a bit more solid. He wore his golden crown.

“Who would miss me,” she asked, self-deprecatingly. 

“Me, for one. Sansa, Jon, Brienne, and many more,” Bran replied sedately. Pod nodded along. “It’s why you came back, isn’t it? You’re not no one. You’re Arya Stark of Westeros. A sister, a friend, an unrequited love, and you missed it.” 

Her face scrunched up. “I had no unrequited love,” she argued, her voice quiet but also fierce. She felt as if she needed to defend herself. She had said what she had said to Gendry because she didn’t want to give him any false hope about her. Even if she did regret it now. In Winterfell, she had been mostly sure she would die, and she didn’t want him chasing after her to ruin his chance at a good life, a life he was excited about. She had tried to push him away in King’s Landing too, to keep her heart hard. Bran didn’t need to know all that, though, even if it seemed he did.

“I told him to wait for you, if he wanted to. I told him you would be back,” Bran told her in his monotone voice. “He hasn’t married another. He can’t bear to be without you. He needs you, and you need him.”

Arya shook her head. “I can’t be a lady, not a good one.”

Bran smiled then, really smiled, for the first time. He seemed more like Bran that way. “Do you think he wants you to? He wants you to be _his_ lady,” he said cryptically.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Go to Storm’s End. You’ll find out.”

“Is that an order,” she teased.

“Perhaps,” he replied. Bran guided his horse closer to her, and held out his hand, which she grasped. “Come visit me when you can. I would like to hear about your travels. I can send ravens to Sansa and Jon when you’re ready to visit them as well. I am currently on my way to Tarth, to discuss trade with representatives from Dorne, but I shall return to King’s Landing right after.” He looked at her and gave another small smile. “Send me a raven if you have any pressing news. Farewell, Arya. I think we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.” Then he turned his horse around and got back on the road, his entourage of horses and men right behind him. Podrick bowed as well as he could on a horse, then he too left. She was left alone again, and the nervousness returned.

The King had given her an order and so she guessed she had to do it. She wasn’t afraid, she told herself, she was just nervous, which wasn’t a better feeling at all. She sighed and put her chin up, and started her short ride to Storm’s End.

***

Storm’s End was a large castle with some of the highest walls she had ever seen. She had heard stories growing up that the walls had been made with magic by her ancestor, Bran the Builder. A large tower shot up in the middle, made of dark stone. It sat atop a white cliff, and the violent ocean waves crashed hard far below. It was vastly different from Winterfell, but she admired the strength it seemed to radiate.

The guard atop the high stone wall asked her name and business. She saw several archers with their bows fixed on her. The gate was down, and Arya could feel the mist from the ocean waves even this far away.

“My name is Arya Stark. I’m here to see the lord of this keep,” she announced confidently. She kept eye contact with the guard, who looked at her warily for a moment.

“Lady Stark, m’lord has been expecting you,” the guard replied, and escorted her to the castle. She had expected a bit more resistance to her inquiry to be let in, and she was surprised she had been accepted so readily. Bran must have told Gendry to be expecting her, and he must have told his guards. The heavy gate went up and she rode in.

It wasn’t stormy, like she had expected, and for that she was grateful. After a short ride through the village to the castle itself, the armored guards near the entrance to the keep nodded at her, but then continued their duties, except for one, a younger man with yellow hair, who led her horse to the stables. She assumed she would be brought into the main hall, but as the original guard led her through the halls and up some stairs, she realized she was probably headed for a smaller room. Most likely his bedroom. She swallowed. 

The guard stopped at a large wooden door and knocked twice. “Lady Stark is here for you, m’lord.”

The door opened quickly, and there he was, better dressed than ever and with longer hair, much like it had been when he was younger, but nothing else about him had changed. The guard bowed and left without being told, a soft smile on his face. 

Gendry looked at her with that same expression, that one where she felt like the only person in the whole world. It made her feel treasured. It made her feel alive.

He cleared his throat. “Bran, I mean, the King, said you would come back, and if I waited until this very day, that you would come here and that I could explain myself to you and clear some things up,” he babbled as he pulled her into his room. His surroundings seemed modest for a lord to her but at the same time seemed like him. He did have a nice view of the beach from his window. He led her to a comfy chair and he sat down in one across from her. He did not let go of her hand.

“Clear what up?” Her heart was beating so loudly she swore she could hear it.

“What I should’ve told you outside King’s Landing, if I hadn’t been so mad and foolish.” He turned serious. “Arya, I don’t want you to be a lady like you think I want. I don’t want you to wear dresses and do embroidery and all that, unless you want to. I want you to train my soldiers and help me make decisions and have an equal partnership,” he explained. “I want you to help me help people. Only if that’s what you want, though, of course.” 

Tears started to well up in her eyes but she couldn’t say anything. She was overwhelmed.

He got down on his knees in front of her. “I love you, Arya Stark, even after all this time. And if you met someone out there on the sea or if you don’t care about me anymore then you can tell me now, you can consider your visit done, you can leave and I’ll bury my feelings for you so deep you won’t even have to feel sorry for me, I swear,” Gendry promised, sliding his thumbs across her hands. “But if you love me and you want to stay here and be my lady then I promise I’ll do anything to make you happy. Anything.”

“Seven hells,” she muttered, taking one hand and wiping away tears that hadn’t yet spilled. Then she sighed. “Well, I can’t say I don’t like it here. It’s a bit rainy, from what I understand, but I suppose I can get used to that. Also, I’ll need you to get into your forge and make me all the weapons I want,” she started listing off, looking at her fingers as she counted things off with them. He laughed. “I need to be able to go see Jon and Sansa and Bran whenever I feel like, and I’ll need you to accompany me. Also, you might want to prepare your soldiers now for the fact that they will lose every sparring match with me, because I won’t be bested by the likes of them.” 

When she finally looked at him, he was beaming. She couldn’t help but smile back. It had taken a trip across the vast seas and his hurried explanation for her to see that her home was here. With Gendry.

“Just to be clear, are you accepting my proposal this time?” He leaned in closer to her.

“Yes, my lord, I am. Just don’t expect me to be very ladylike,” she teased.

He stood up quickly and pulled her up to him, closing her tight around him, then briefly pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, her arms winding around him. “All I want is for you to be my family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, they’re already together. Also, I am not a fan of Three-Eyed Raven Bran, so he’s getting some personality changes.
> 
> Gendry has hair again, it’s what we all want deep down.


	4. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry talks a lot, and then he is otherwise occupied.

She had arrived in the evening, as the sun had started to set, a rare sight indeed in the Stormlands lately. The past few days had been constant rain. He took that as a sign. He had dinner brought to his room, and they dined together.

Even though Bran said she would come back, Gendry still couldn’t believe it half the time. He had told his guards to let her in if she approached the gate, and then he had paced around his room for the rest of the day, waiting. He had even yelled at Davos when he came to his door, demanding to know why he hadn’t left his rooms all day. Gendry felt guilty about that now. He was just about to give up hope when he had heard a knock at his door, and she was there, like a dream. If it was a dream, it was a dream he would gladly stay in forever. He couldn’t help but smile at her as she ate across from him.

“Are you going to sit there and watch me eat the whole time? I’ll change my mind and go to Winterfell if you don’t stop,” she complained, and he smiled even wider, but looked down at his food instead. He knew she was kidding, but he didn’t want to take the chance.

“I won’t apologize. It’s my castle, I can do whatever I like,” he replied lightly. 

She sighed in annoyance, pushed her empty plate to the side, and then leaned forward, her hands clasped together. Her face looked eager. “So what’s happened since I left? I didn’t get a lot of messages.”

“Happened with me or in general? And you didn’t get any messages because no one knew where you were.”

She ignored his last remark. “Let’s start with information on the kingdoms, I suppose. Then I’ll hear about you.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said, and she snorted. 

Once he started looking at her, he couldn’t stop. She was quite tan, and her brown hair was much longer, but beyond that she hadn’t changed at all. She was still beautiful and strong and here. With him. He shook himself out of his reverie.

“Well, your brother, the King, is keeping the peace pretty well. They made a lot of improvements to King’s Landing, and since all the great houses have pretty much been killed off there’s not as much fighting about who stays in charge these days. Everything is mostly run by the council now. I have to go in front of them soon and report on the status of the people here,” he explained. “The North is independent, as you’re aware, but since your brother is also a Stark they obviously have good relations. Dorne and the Iron Islands have become independent as well, but they’re all close allies.”

He paused. “Is this what you wanted to know?”

“Yes, keep going,” she said, nodding.

“Bran let Dorne and the Iron Islands go to avoid more war, plus he had allowed the North to be free. He didn’t want to be accused of favoritism. So Bran declared that whoever wanted to be independent could, and those two decided to go.” He paused, thinking about what else he could tell her. “Anyways, there’s no real threats anymore either so I think that keeps people peaceful as well. The White Walkers, dragons, and all the old feuds have all gone. All the lands seem to be united, for now. I don’t expect it to last forever,” he explained. He hesitated, but then decided he should tell her. “I’ve had some letters from Jon.” 

He waited to see her reaction. Her face didn’t change.

“How is he,” she asked neutrally.

“He’s up north with the wildings now, practically their leader, I think. He didn’t stay at the Night’s Watch. Not sure what we need it now for anyways,” he said. “He visits Sansa in Winterfell occasionally, and that’s when I get the letters. She pardoned him in the North. No one up there believes he did anything wrong, to Daenerys. He feels like he did, though.”

He went silent, once again internally debating on how much he should say. 

“What? Just say whatever you have to say. I can take it,” Arya said gently.

“He asked me about you in his last letter. It came a couple of months ago. He seemed to know about, um, us, and what happened between us back in Winterfell somehow.” Fuck, he was blushing. He could feel it. It almost made things worse when he saw that she was as well. Now that was all he could think about. It was all he thought about at night, alone in his rather large bed. The first night they had been together, one of the best nights of his life. Well, until the horrific battle right after.

He cleared his throat. “Anyways, he wanted to know when you would be getting here and if he could come visit when you did. He would have to be smuggled in, considering he abandoned the Night’s Watch, and that’s still technically illegal, but I know someone who lives around here who could do it.” Davos, of course, would have no qualms about helping Jon.

She looked confused. “I never told Jon I was coming here. I didn’t know myself until today.”

“I guess that’s the perks of your brother being the all-knowing Three-Eyed Raven,” he quipped. 

“It’s honestly a bit irritating, and I hope King Bran is watching right now to hear me say that.” (Bran smiled on the road to Tarth, then turned his attention to another part of the kingdom.)

Gendry laughed but then stopped as a disturbing thought entered his mind. “You don’t think your brother can somehow watch you all the time, do you? Does he watch me? I don’t like this.”

“I’m sure he’s busy running the kingdoms,” she said, unconvincingly. 

A maid knocked on the door to ask if she could clean, and Gendry gave her permission. It started to get very dark, the sky suddenly stormy, a typical happening at Storm’s End, so he added more wood to his fireplace, then sat back down across from Arya. The maid quickly cleaned the table and took the dishes. Arya watched her the entire time until she left.

“Your maid is pretty,” she said, seemingly offhand.

“Yeah, well, first off, I’m not my father. I don’t notice things like that. Second, she’s betrothed. Third, she’s your lady’s maid, not mine,” he replied defensively. 

“So how has being a lord been for you,” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Fine. I have a steward who is teaching me how to run everything. Davos helps me a lot too. Brienne is training the army. The people here are loyal to any Baratheon, even a bastard like me,” he told her. He grimaced. “I’m just not sure how good I am at this. I’m a fighter and a smith, not a peacetime ruler. I need to learn certain things, but I feel like I can’t ask because I’m supposed to be in charge.”

“Like what?”

He looked at her earnestly. “Arya, can you teach me how to read and write? Davos has taught me a bit, but I don’t really trust many people with the information that I can’t do what all lords should know. I’ve gotten away with it so far by asking the maester to read everything to me.” He shook his head. “I don’t want them to know how little I know. I want to seem like my best for the people here.”

She smiled and took his hand. “Of course I will. I shall impart all of my wisdom onto you.”

He smiled back at her. “Thank you, my lady.” He cleared his throat. “I feel like I should tell you something else, though at this point they’re both just rumors.”

Arya’s expression changed to one of dread. “What is it?”

He noted her demeanor. “It’s nothing that serious. It’s just, well, there’s some rumors that Sansa might have grown an attachment to one of the sons of the northern lords. I’m not sure which. Also, your brother, the king, invited Meera Reed to King’s Landing, and from what I heard from Davos, he’s trying to beg her for her forgiveness. I guess he wasn’t too nice to her when they left each other. Tyrion told Davos that he thinks Bran is becoming a bit more like Bran, and a little less Three-Eyed Raven lately,” Gendry explained. He didn’t know if any of this was true, but he thought he should tell Arya before someone else did.

“I think I noticed that when I saw him. I hope all of that is true. House Stark deserves some happiness after all that happened to us.” She swallowed and her gaze turned serious. “Take me to bed, Gendry.”

He sputtered. Where had this come from? It’s not like he hadn’t been thinking about it since she had arrived in his room, he just figured she wouldn’t want it right away. “Right now?”

She shrugged. “If you’re not up for it, that’s fine. I’m sure you have an extra room somewhere I can sleep-”

In the time she had said that, he had gotten up, walked up to her, and had quickly pulled her into his arms. He interrupted her with a kiss, a kiss he had wanted since she had left.

He moved his hands down to her waist and pulled her even closer against him. She was so short he had to bend over but he hardly minded. All he wanted was to taste her again, to feel her up against him.

She opened her mouth against his and he groaned. He had missed her more than anything. The dull ache he felt when she left was gone, had disappeared as soon as she said she would stay.

He led her over to the bed, never breaking contact with her until she started to take off his clothes. It was just like before, exchanging kisses while they undressed each other. He did get his own pants off before she pushed him onto the bed this time.

He pushed himself to the middle of the bed while she crawled on top of him. Before she could kiss him again, however, he put his hands on her upper arms to stop her. 

“What’s wrong,” she asked, concerned.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you. I haven’t wanted to. And if you have that’s fine, I’ll only be extremely jealous, but I wanted you to know,” he blurted out. He had no idea why he had to tell her that. His pride had wanted him to keep his self-inflicted celibacy to himself, but his love for her demanded that he reassure her that he had been faithful, considering his bloodline and the nature of many men in the world.

She lay down next to him, and his arms wrapped around her. He looked down at her. Her face was so devoid of emotion, the face that she had worn around Winterfell sometimes. He was worried something untoward had happened, though he doubted anyone could get near her unless she wanted them to.

She took a deep breath in. “There was one man. His name was Erik.” She looked up at him. “He reminded me of you. His hair was longer, but he had a similar face. Probably another Baratheon bastard,” she joked, smiling. He didn’t smile.

“One night, I had too much wine, and he came to my cabin with more, and we drank, and he kissed me and I kissed him back.” 

Gendry growled. “Honestly, I don’t want to know now,” he interrupted, as jealous as he said he would be, as he knew he would be. 

She laughed and ran her fingers up and down his strong arms. “I’m not done yet with my story. Trust me, you’ll like it.” She paused, and he nodded. He still looked disgruntled.

“Anyway, he started to kiss my neck, and that’s when I moaned out your name instead of his. I was imagining it was you who kissed me. I wanted it to be you,” she admitted. He smirked and savored the feeling of satisfaction he felt. She was his, just as he was hers. “Well, you can probably guess then that the mood was ruined. We talked about it later and I apologized for using him in that way, as a substitute for you. We were friendly towards each other did the rest of the trip, but he was the first one to get off the ship when we docked.”

He rolled over on top of her, his arms on either side of her, still smirking. “That was a great story,” he agreed, leaning down and kissing her neck. “But I’m going to need you to, what did you say, moan out my name, more than just once.” 

He slid his legs between hers and spread them slowly while he concentrated on sucking on her neck, marking her. She did moan out his name.

“I want to hear you say it more,” he insisted, moving his mouth down to her breasts.

“Gendry,” she moaned, breathlessly. He looked up at her quickly, seeing her eyes shut and her hair now wild. 

He slid two fingers inside her, noting how wet she was for him already. His cock twitched at the feeling. His mouth kissed every part of her upper body, her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders. He stopped at her scars, then kissed each one tenderly.

“Say it again,” he demanded. He needed to hear it. That she chose him. That she wanted him. Sometimes he had a hard time believing it. Arya had always been so high above him, even if she had never seen it that way. 

“Gendry, please,” she begged, as her hips came up to his. She opened her eyes. “I missed you so much.”

“As you wish, m’lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally was going to wait a bit for smut but it’s been awhile for both of them so, yeah, it’s going down. 
> 
> This is what I imagined happened to Westeros. Idk that place is too crazy to be all chill for long imho.
> 
> SANSA DESERVES A DECENT GUY. Also, get your shit together Bran.


	5. Future Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry have a discussion about their relationship. Gendry is considerate. Davos and Brienne finally show up. Plans for the future of the Stormlands are made.

As they lay awake in the afterglow, Arya suddenly sat up and looked at Gendry behind her.

“You know you’ll never be able to stray from me, right,” she asked him, her eyes intense. They were still naked, and Gendry didn’t understand where this conversation was headed.

He shook his head and reached up to caress her hair at the ends that hung down her back. “I wouldn’t.”

She turned her whole body toward him, wrapped up in the sheets, and grabbed his wrist lightly. “You don’t understand. Everything I learned in Braavos would make it impossible. I want you to be sure you’ll only ever want me,” she insisted.

Gendry smiled. “What did you learn in Braavos that would make it impossible for me to take up with someone besides you,” he replied in a joking way. What was she trying to say? Yeah, he was a Baratheon, but he was pretty sure he had shown her his loyalty.

“Three things: one, I always know when someone is lying; two, I can kill anyone without leaving a trace; and three, I learned from the courtesans there how to seduce any man,” she listed off, her face serious.

“So what you’re saying is that if I ever bed someone else and lie about it that you’ll kill me and fuck some random man on my grave, is that it,” he joked. He couldn’t help teasing her when she was so serious about this.

Arya crawled on top of him, straddling him, and he grabbed her waist to steady her against him. The sheet fell off of her. She leaned down and kissed him, deeply enough that he could feel himself getting hard again.

She stopped and raised an eyebrow. “What I’m saying is I can seduce you anytime I like, but if somehow you still wouldn’t want me, I would find out and kill you.”

He laughed then. “Listen, all you’re doing right now is making me want you more. Truth be told, I like when you’re possessive,” he admitted as he sat up and kissed the tip of her nose. “And you can seduce me anytime you want without any tricks a courtesan could teach you.”

He flipped her over onto her back so he could touch her entire body, with his hands and his mouth.

She moaned out his name again, just how he liked. “Now you tell me you’ll never leave me that long again, Arya,” he demanded.

“Never again,” she promised as her body writhed underneath him, her eyes tightly shut, and her hands wrapped up in his hair.

He stopped suddenly, thinking of something, and she whimpered. “Why did you stop?”

“My father started an entire shitty war over your aunt, a war that ruined the lives of almost everyone we know,” he commented as he loomed over her. He cupped her face with his big hands, his elbows dropping to rest between her head, and stared directly in her eyes, making sure she understood. “I understand my father now. If anyone stole you away from me, I would do exactly the same thing. I would call all my banners and I would fight anyone I had to, all of it, to get you back,” he promised.

“Ours is the fury,” she recited, his house motto.

“I mean, unless you decided to fuck off with some other arsehole on purpose, then I’d just move on and forget you,” he joked with a mocking grin.

She gave him an annoyed look. “If you’re done talking, there’s other things I’d like to be doing with you.”

He played innocent while running one hand down the side of her naked body. “And what would that be, my lady?”

She sighed in frustration. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll get on my horse and ride to Winterfell and you won’t see me for months,” she demanded.

Gendry just laughed. “I suppose that’s what the courtesans in Braavos taught you? To threaten your lover until they give in,” he asked, his eyes shining with mirth.

“Would you like me to show you what they taught me,” she said in a smooth, sultry tone, and he laughed no more.

* * *

He awoke the next morning to her arms wrapped around his stomach and her body pressed up against his back. She was snoring. He grinned. How unladylike.

He tried to move away slowly, tempting as it was to stay with her in bed, wrapped up in yellow silk sheets and in her warm body, but he had duties, and he took them seriously. Well, most of the time.

As he was putting on his clothes, he heard her stretching and turned around to look at her. She looked at him with interest as she pulled the blanket up to her breasts. 

“You should keep your shirt off and come back to bed,” she said suggestively, biting her bottom lip.

He shook his head and looked away, pulling his shirt on and then his jerkin. “No, don’t do that to me, my love. I have a lot to do today.”

She sighed and got up as well. “I should find my clothes and my trunk. I suppose I should go with you today, learn about your lordly duties, tell everyone I’m your betrothed, and all of that.”

“If you want,” he mumbled, but was inwardly ecstatic that she volunteered to go with him today. He was afraid to ask, but he wanted her there with him.

Another thought sprang into his mind as she got dressed. “By the way, your room is next to mine. It’s been empty since it’s meant for the Lady of Storm’s End. I had them clean it out thoroughly a couple days ago and put your things in there last night. I also went ahead and had some southern clothes made for you,” he admitted, his face red. 

She turned to him as she put her cloak on. “I swear, if you had them make me 20 Baratheon yellow dresses I will slit your throat,” she threatened, but the tone of her voice was airy, and he knew she was teasing him.

“Seven hells, love, I know you think I’m stupid, but give me some credit. When King Bran wrote to me and said you would be coming soon, I wrote to Queen Sansa and asked what kind of clothes you like, and she and her handmaidens made some clothes and she sent them here not long after. Then I had some more made by the seamstresses here based off what she sent. I honestly never expected Sansa to do it herself, being the Queen and all. I thought she would just send some directions,” he quickly explained.

“Sansa loves to sew.”

“I have to admit something,” he said seriously, grabbing her hand. She looked up in his eyes. “Some of your garments do, in fact, feature yellow, a Baratheon yellow, if you will, along with the Stark black. Also, Sansa made you a dress.” He laughed as she punched his arm.

She looked irritated, her stormy gray eyes wide in anger. “Don’t ever expect me to wear it!” She whirled around and quickly shut the door behind her. A second later, the door opened, and she appeared. “Thanks, for thinking of me.” He just continued to laugh as he finished getting ready for the day.

* * *

Her room was a bit more extravagant than Gendry’s, and a lot more feminine. There were too many ruffles for her taste. Stags were heavily featured throughout the decor, but she also noticed direwolves placed around as well. One was etched into the back of a wooden chair, another sewn into one of the pillows on her bed. She also had fresh flowers in a vase on a table next to her bed. They looked like the flowers that grew in pots outside Gendry’s window on his balcony. She had a featherbed, unlike Gendry, who had a straw mattress. She would have to ask him why. The view from her window was also a spectacular view of the turbulent beach and the jagged rocks that protected it. A large fireplace was at the foot of her bed, which would be nice in the winter.

Arya smiled as she went to find her clothes and took them out to examine them, laying them on her bed.

They were her style, but she did notice her shirts were now mostly yellow and black, the colors of her two houses. Well, her future house. The dress Sansa had sent was a bright blue, with yellow stitching and black gloves. The blue matched Gendry’s eyes. Arya wondered if Sansa knew that. It was quite beautiful, and she realized she did want to wear it, but just for a special occasion.

She threw off her old clothes and put on her new, more yellow ones. She would let everyone see who she was. A Stark and a Baratheon. As she washed her face, a knock sounded against her door.

“M’lady, m’lord said I should come help you,” a female voice said loudly on the other side. Arya walked over and opened her door.

A woman around her age came in. It was the same maid that had cleared her plate yesterday, the one she had thought was a bit too pretty. Gendry had said she was a lady’s maid.

She curtsied. “My name is Plum, and I’ll be your maid if it pleases m’lady,” she informed Arya. “Shall I braid your hair?”

Arya nodded, and sat down while Plum found a brush. “It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me Arya. Gendry, I mean, his lordship, told me last night that you were betrothed,” she inquired, not used to making much small talk. She also didn’t know how Gendry had people address him.

Plum’s smile became radiant as she set about fixing Arya’s messy brown hair. “Yes, I’m to be married to one of the captains of m’lord’s army.”

Arya realized she could probably get a lot of information out of this woman who had lived here most likely her entire life. Her own knowledge of the area was lacking. She needed to know a lot if she was to help Gendry take care of the Stormlands. “What’s his name?”

“Andrue Storm,” Plum replied as she continued braiding Arya’s hair. 

“All the best men are bastards,” she remarked to Plum. “Who was his father?”

“Lord Beric Dondarrion,” she answered automatically as she made sure Arya’s braid was even in the mirror.

Arya took a deep breath. “I knew Lord Beric.”

“Yes, Lord Gendry told Andrue the tale of how his father saved you so you could kill the Night King and bring the new dawn upon Westeros.” Plum paused, her green eyes alight. “What amazing things you must have seen throughout your life.” They were silent until Plum finished Arya’s hair. “Can I help you with anything else, m’lady?”

“Just call me Arya, if you want. And, no, I suppose I should go find his lordship.”

Plum smiled knowingly. “He told me to tell you he would be in his solar with Sers Davos and Brienne. I’ll fetch someone to take you,” she explained, and promptly left. Arya liked Plum, she would just like her to be less formal.

As promised, one of the guards knocked on her door and said he was here to escort her.

“What’s your name,” she asked after winding through the halls and stairs for a bit. Arya was trying to memorize her way around but she also wanted to seem polite. The guard was tall and broad, and had sandy-colored hair that was turning grey in places.

“My name is Zak, m’lady.”

Arya sighed inwardly. She supposed she should get used to being called that, for now.

“Do you like his lordship?”

He looked down and winked at her. “Probably not as much as you, m’lady.”

Arya couldn’t help but giggle at his joke. “I should think not.”

Zak stopped in front of a large door. He knocked twice and opened it for her. “Please feel free to call on me whenever you need me, m’lady.” He bowed and walked back down the long hall.

Arya walked confidently into the solar, and Gendry stood up from behind his desk when he saw her. Brienne and Davos turned around in their chairs and stood up as well upon seeing her. Neither had changed much in her absence, though she did notice Brienne had grown her blonde hair out a bit longer.

The solar was higher in the tower than the previous rooms she had been in, and the view was amazing. The sun reflecting off the water reminded her of traveling on the sea. 

She ran to embrace Brienne first, and then Davos, and they both greeted her. She then turned to Gendry. He had a mischievous look on his face that she didn’t trust.

“Arya, you look quite lovely this morning,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair next to him behind the desk. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied as he tucked her chair in for her after she sat. 

Davos gave him a stern look. “Everyone in this castle knows you saw her wake up this morning, boy, so you can cut out the innocent act.” Brienne snorted.

Gendry just shrugged. “I don’t take your meaning, Ser Davos. My betrothed and I do everything right and proper,” he said, then turned and winked at Arya.

He’s such a little shit, she thought. She loved him so much.

Davos sighed. “Sandor Clegane told me himself how he found you two before the Long Night. The sooner you get married, the better.”

Arya could see Gendry blushing, and her own face felt hot, thinking about what had happened that night and knowing that Davos knew about it. She chanced a look at Brienne, who was hiding a laugh behind her hand.

“Speaking of a wedding, I feel you should announce your betrothal to the lords and ladies of the Stormlands as soon as possible. They’ve been clamoring for you to marry one of their daughters since you got here, lad, and Princess Arya here is a much better match than any of them,” Davos explained, nodding his head at her.

Davos continued, directing most of his talking to Arya. “The Stormlands have become more populated due to the smallfolk leaving King’s Landing and coming here after the massacre by the Dragon Queen. I think once word gets out that you two are to be married, even more will come to settle here.” Davos looked at Gendry. “You have a reputation of being a fair ruler, a man of the smallfolk.” Gendry blushed again at Davos’ praise. He turned to Arya. “You have a reputation of being a fierce protector of all people, and you are a Stark, one of the most highly regarded houses in the kingdoms.”

“If you two are united here, then many more will come to live and work. The Stormlands have mostly been sparsely populated in my time. You two could bring about a new age,” added Brienne.

Arya cleared her throat. “On my travels, I didn’t find a new land, but I did find some important allies who are interested in more trade with Westeros, in Braavos and other port cities in Essos, and in Ulthos and Sothoryos, especially now that peace and stability seems to have remained constant. I’ve brought maps of quicker routes from here, and I made contacts in many of these places,” she explained. “We could build ships and run trade out of Shipbreaker Bay. We found a cove that a ship can easily land in not far from here.”

Davos looked impressed. “I think I know which cove you mean. It’s hard to spot from the water, but we could build a small dock out there. We could also set out from many other points on the coast. Would you need to go yourself, my lady, to establish said trade, or would your name carry enough weight to send a representative,” he inquired of Arya.

She looked at Gendry, who watched her. She could tell he was trying to keep his face neutral, not wanting to make any decisions for her either way, but she knew he wouldn’t want her to leave. She didn’t want to leave him anyway. “My first mate would easily be able to broker deals on my behalf,” she replied thoughtfully. Gendry turned away from her and smiled. 

“There’s good lumber here in the Stormlands, that we could use to build more ships. Most of our fleet is military. We could start a very lucrative trade with your connections, Lady Arya,” Brienne commented.

“Giving the people an occupation, especially one that can make them some coin, is important. If you do truly think more people will come to settle here from the Crownlands, then we should start right away. Can you send out your first mate soon,” Gendry asked Arya.

“He actually lives here in the Stormlands, in a cabin outside of the Kingswood. I’ll send a raven to him immediately,” she agreed. “If all goes well, we can have my ship on it’s way to Braavos in a couple of days.”

Davos nodded. “There’s only one more thing to discuss then, and then we can get on with our days.” He turned to Arya. “If you want me to smuggle your brother in, I can, and I would, but your other brother will probably know somehow. I think you should ask King Bran first what he thinks before you bring Jon here. I may be overreactin’, but I’d hate to start a fight between here and King’s Landing before you even become the actual Lady of Storm’s End.”

Arya thought about that for a moment. When she was younger, she probably would’ve argued with Davos that it wasn’t his concern, but time had made her wiser to good advice. “I agree. I will consult with my brother. Grey Worm is gone. Yara and the Iron Islands are no longer part of the kingdoms. No one else stood against him. Perhaps I can get a pardon for Jon now, if he wants it.” They all sat silent for awhile, thinking.

“Well, I’m off, m’lord, m’lady,” Davos said, getting up, bowing curtly to each of them. “It’s petitions tomorrow, lad.”

“Aye,” Gendry replied. His face looked troubled.

Brienne also stood up. “I’m to train more of the troops today. If you would like to spar with anyone, my lady, feel free to come down to the training ground anytime today.”

Arya smiled. “You can count on it.”

Davos and Brienne took their leave, and as soon as the door was closed, Arya turned on Gendry. “What's wrong with petitions?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Nothin’.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re full of shit. I know there’s something wrong, so you might as well just tell me. Quit being stubborn. We’re partners.”

He sighed in surrender. “Alright. I always have to rely on Davos too much during them. I never know if what I’m saying is exactly right. But I also don’t want anyone to think I don’t know what I’m doing. So far it’s gone pretty good but it honestly scares me. I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“I think you forget you have me now. I went to petitions with my father growing up. If you feel unsure, just look at me, and I’ll give my opinion. And if you don’t agree with me, you should say so. I could never love a man who would blindly go along with whatever I say,” she explained.

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll never have to worry about that from me. I’ll fight with you when we’re ghosts, haunting these halls together.” 

Arya looked around. “So what do we have to do now?”

“Now, hopefully, if it pleases m’lady, you’re going to help me read all these damn scrolls,” he said, gesturing to a stack of papers next to him, irritated.

She winked at him. “Let me send a raven to my first mate, and then we can start on it together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two headcanons in this chapter. 1. That Arya and Davos became at least acquaintances at some point. 2. That it was The Hound that found Arya and Gendry post-sex in Winterfell. It explains why The Hound and Gendry were the last to arrive before the battle and why The Hound is the only one who seems to know about the two of them at the party later in episode four.
> 
> I will explain later why Brienne and Davos are there instead of on the council in King’s Landing. They’re here for the Stormlands renaissance y’all.
> 
> Yes, Arya discovered that the earth isn’t flat! Ha ha, there’s nothing west of Westeros so I’m putting that BS to rest right now. 
> 
> I like it when Gendry gives Arya cute nicknames, when Arya defines femininity any way she wants, and when Davos just dgaf. I also like giggly!Arya and jokester!Gendry. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments and kudos!


	6. Advantages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Davos have a conversation. Arya reads a letter.

Davos accompanied Brienne to the training grounds, the two talking all the while.

“So what do you think about those two,” Davos asked Brienne, quietly.

“Arya is the best match for Gendry we could ever even dream of. She has royal connections, trade partners, a ship of her own...even without all that she’s a lady of a great house and a famed warrior. None of the lords and ladies of the Stormlands could have any objection,” Brienne commented. 

Davos chuckled. “What I mean is do you think they’re in love,” he teased her.

Brienne looked flustered. “Oh. To be honest, yes, I believe they are. I think we both know Lord Gendry has been pining away for her this whole time.” 

“Aye, that’s for sure,” Davos agreed.

Brienne continued. “I don’t believe Lady Arya would ever do anything she didn’t want to do. She could have easily just gone back to Winterfell, or even King’s Landing. She would be welcomed in any castle in the kingdoms, and yet she chose to come here, to Storm’s End. She came for him. She’ll stay for him.”

They reached the courtyard. “I hope she does, for his sake and the Stormlands,” Davos replied. “I’m going down to the cove to see if we really can build a dock there. It’s finally a nice day and I won’t spend it inside.” He gave her a slight nod and headed for the gate.

Brienne walked the rest of the way to the training grounds. She did hope Arya would make an appearance today to spar. The men of the Stormlands had all been impressed with Gendry’s fighting skills, which in Brienne’s eyes were rudimentary at best. Arya’s fighting style would be more than any of them could handle.

* * *

Arya was silently reading one of the letters on the huge pile he had to go through that day. She had read the others aloud and had gone through them with Gendry, pointing out basic words that he could hopefully learn quickly. He got nervous that she wasn’t reading that one to him. What could be in it?

“So what’s that one say,” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but in actuality was very anxious to know what it said.

She took a moment before answering. “It’s from Bronzegate. They are offering one of their daughters for marriage to the Lord of Storm’s End,” she reads, then glanced up at him with an expression he thought might be a mix of amusement and irritation. “It goes on further to say that you did promise to announce your betrothal by the end of summer, which is soon.” He started sweating, and in his mind he’s thinking up all the excuses he can. She continued. “It concludes with a reminder that lords must marry to secure the future of the kingdom and they must marry well.” She dropped the letter back on the desk.

Arya looked up at him, her look appraising. He avoided her gaze, instead looking down at some other papers he needed to look at, dreading what she would say.

She cleared her throat and he had no choice but to look up at her. “So, if I hadn’t come back by the end of the summer, you were going to marry someone else?”

He shrugged. “You told me not to wait for you.”

“Yes I did.” 

“Look, every lord and lady in the Stormlands was telling me to marry their daughter ever since I got here. Obviously, I said no. Bran said you would be here weeks before the end of summer, so to get them off my back I gave them a timeline. I figured if you didn’t come back it would give me time to pick one, even if I didn’t really want to. Or to come up with another excuse not to. But it is a lord’s duty to marry someone who can bring advantages to his lands,” he explained. He was still anxious. Her expression hadn’t changed. 

One of her eyebrows lifted. “So is that why you asked me to marry you? To bring advantages to your lands,” she teased. He noticed her tiny smile and felt relieved.

“I mean, you do come with advantages,” Gendry said, eyeing her suggestively. “The biggest one being that you stay in my bed.”

She rolled her eyes. “Keep your mind off of that and on learning all these words,” she chastised him, tapping her finger on the rest of the small pile of papers. “You’re almost done.”

He groaned. “Well, I guess I should get my maester to write to Bronzegate and tell them I decline their generous offer,” Gendry said sarcastically. He looked back down on his scrolls, trying to decipher the words with the little knowledge he had obtained so far.

“We may as well announce our betrothal. Here, I’ll write it for you,” she volunteered, grabbing his quill. He saw the danger before she even started. She could write whatever she wanted, and he wouldn’t be entirely sure what it would say.

“The maester reads all my scrolls before they’re sent so don’t say anything bad,” he warned. She didn’t acknowledge him as she continued writing, and he started to sweat even more.

After a short amount of silence, he snuck a look up at her. “The truth, though, is that the only people’s daughter I would ever agree to marry is Ned and Catelyn Stark’s,” he admitted.

“So, Sansa then,” she teased, continuing to write.

“Yes, Sansa. Someone I met one time and wrote exactly two scrolls to. Love of my life,” he said sarcastically.

“You know, my father told me once back when we lived in King’s Landing that it was your father’s greatest wish to join House Baratheon and Stark. And now you can, when you marry Sansa,” she joked, holding back a laugh.

Gendry thought about that for a moment. “Wait, did he mean Sansa and Joffrey? Joffrey didn’t have a drop of Baratheon blood in him,” Gendry remarked. Brienne and Davos had filled him in on all the gossip and facts they had learned in King’s Landing at court.

“King Robert didn’t know that, or maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. Either way, in the eyes of the law, Joffrey was a legitimate Baratheon. Sansa is a Stark. They would have been King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms by now probably,” Arya mused aloud.

“Yeah, and I’d probably be dead, and you’d be married off to a Bolton or a Frey or some arsehole like that,” he commented.

She finished writing. “At least now we can join our two houses, like your father, and I think my father, a little bit, wanted,” she said, hastily changing the subject. 

“You’re right. Maybe it’s shitty to say this, since a lot of good people died in the process, but I’m glad you’re able to marry me,” he agreed, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

“Me too. But don’t worry, even if I had married a Frey, or Bolton, I would’ve killed him before he even got the chance to touch me,” Arya said fiercely. 

Gendry believed her. The entire male Frey line was proof of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short because next chapter will be long. 
> 
> “I have a son. You have a daughter. We’ll join our two houses.” I’m making it happen for you Bobby B.!


	7. Old Friends, New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya spars. Gendry takes Arya to meet some friends.

After lunch, Arya went down to the training grounds to find Brienne, leaving Gendry to his own devices. He had assured her before she left that he was fine going over tax figures with his steward. It wouldn’t take long. Numbers weren’t difficult for him. Letters, on the other hand, were a different story.

She found Brienne leading an archery drill with a group of 20 or so men. Others sparred further down the sandy grounds with swords. Arya was pleased with what she saw, mostly. More than one man hit the bullseye, which was especially impressive since clouds and a light mist had descended on the castle sometime during lunch. She strode over to where Brienne was keeping an eye on the group. 

“My lady,” Brienne acknowledged her, nodding her head. She then went straight back to observing her group.

Arya stood next to the woman, who towered over her. “Ser Brienne. Is Andrue Storm one of the men here today?” She was curious about Beric’s bastard.

Brienne pointed. “He’s at the end there, with the halfway decent armor.”

Arya looked where Brienne was indicating. Andrue Storm looked slightly like his father, his face somehow like him and not, and his hair was bright red. 

“So how did you come to reside here? I thought maybe you would stay in King’s Landing or go back to Winterfell with Sansa,” Arya asked, curious. She hadn’t expected to see Brienne here.

Brienne cleared her throat. Her face took on an unreadable quality. “Davos and I decided to help Gendry once we found appropriate replacements for our positions in King’s Landing. We brought refugees with us. Many people couldn’t stomach staying in the city that had been destroyed and where people they loved died. Too many bad memories,” she paused, looking up at the sky. She sighed. “I also had memories to escape, in Winterfell and in King’s Landing.” She turned to look at Arya. “I had no bad memories here. I started over here. I have a purpose here.”

“I understand,” Arya said simply. 

Zak had turned and noticed Arya and Brienne at the end of the yard. He was an excellent archer, and Arya saw all his arrows were in the bullseye. He set down his bow and walked behind the other men to the two women.

“M’lady, Ser Brienne said you were looking for a sparring partner. May I be of service,” he offered, bowing a bit too magnanimously.

Arya grinned, wolfishly. “Are you skilled with a sword?”

“Aye, and with a bow, and a knife, and a spear, a mace, and even a hammer like m’lord,” he bragged goodnaturedly. Brienne and all the men had turned to listen, arrows no longer hitting any targets.

She didn’t reply, but turned and walked to the sparring circle nearby. She stood, looking at Zak, her sword, Needle, withdrawn, her eyebrows raised impatiently. She watched as Zak slowly sauntered over, and he also unsheathed his sword. Brienne and the other men gathered around to watch.

“Swords it is then, Lady Arya?” 

“I haven’t fought with mine lately.” She honestly hadn’t. Not much to fight on a ship that was making its way home for weeks. 

Zak attacked first, but she easily blocked his blow. He was proficient, but he was used to fighting larger targets and it showed. Zak had to reach a bit farther than usual to meet her sword and it made him predictable. He came at her again, but she saw his weakness right away and easily blocked him again. Zak was all brute strength, but she had speed. He also held back, and that was his downfall. He swung down one more time, but she quickly changed direction, causing him to lose his balance and stumble. His sword landed with a soft thud on the sand, and she held Needle against his throat. 

She heard one person clapping from somewhere behind her. She turned to see Gendry in the crowd, smirking like he knew a secret no one else did. Brienne had a similar look on her face. Zak and the rest of the men looked shocked.

She picked up and handed Zak his sword as he stood. He then immediately got down on one knee and held up his sword to her, his head bowed. “M’lady, I pledge my sword to you. You are a true warrior, a slayer of legends,” he vowed. He then looked up at her and winked. “And if m’lord should not marry you, I will humbly ask that you marry me instead.”

Gendry stepped up and put himself between Zak and Arya, who was definitely amused. “I’ll smash your head in, old man, I promise,” Gendry warned as he held out his hand to help Zak stand up again.

Zak just laughed as he rose up. “I apologize m’lord, but your lady is all you said she was. A fierce warrior and a great beauty.”

Arya inserted herself between them. “Now, since I have bested you, and you have sworn your sword to me, I must ask you a favor.” Zak nodded his assent. “I must know word-for-word what his lordship told you about me before I came.” She winked at Gendry, whose face betrayed nothing.

Pretty much all the men had crowded around at this point, straining to hear. Zak looked around, and then at Gendry, who shrugged in indifference. “The first thing he said of you, m’lady, was that you were a great warrior, which we can all see is true.” The men all nodded, and some even agreed aloud, Brienne included. “Second, he said you came from a great House, but you weren’t keen on the notion of being fancy. You never cared about titles and all that, just the quality of a person, like m’lord here,” Zak proclaimed, gesturing to Gendry, and the men all cheered. Gendry was popular here, amongst his men. Gendry gave an awkward wave to the crowd and turned his attention back to Zak, gesturing for him to continue.

“And lastly, m’lady, he said you were the most beautiful woman he had even known, and that you were the only lady he could ever love,” Zak finished, and Arya swore she heard a sniffle from somewhere in the crowd. 

“I thank you, Ser Zak, for your honesty, and to my lord, for his kind words, but I hardly needed them, as I know I am all those things and more,” she boasted, and bowed to the crowd. The men erupted in cheers and laughs, some even clapped her on the back. Gendry laughed along with them, shaking his head in amused disbelief, and Arya even saw Brienne crack a smile.

“Come on, my lady, I want to show you something,” Gendry said to Arya after Brienne had yelled at the men to get back to training after the cajoling ended. He took her hand, and nodded to Brienne, who nodded back. 

“Are you done with your duties for the day,” Arya asked Gendry as he led her back to the large castle.

“Davos hasn’t brought me anything so I guess I’m fine.” He led her through Round Hall and down some dark stairs.

“So where are we going?” She had no idea where she was.

“Just wait.” 

They went a bit farther and she found herself in the kitchens. “Are we sneaking some cake or something,” she teased.

“No.” He led her further into the kitchen, and then stopped in front of a familiar person, standing by an oven.

“Hot Pie!” Arya couldn’t believe it. Hot Pie turned around at the sound of his name. He hadn’t changed at all since she had seen him last, same curly hair and dark eyes. 

“Arry!” Hot Pie smiled wide and gave her a hug, then quickly straightened. “Oh, sorry, should I be calling you m’lady?”

Arya shook her head. “No, Hot Pie, just call me by my name. So what are you doing here?”

“Gendry came and offered me a job! He said I could do whatever I wanted, so I told him I’d come bake for ‘im. I like to bake. I couldn’t believe when he told me he was a lord of a whole castle,” Hot Pie explained, and she and Gendry exchanged smiles at Hot Pie’s long-winded explanation. “He comes down here all the time to see me. Then we ate breakfast together the other morning and he told me you’d be coming here, he hoped, and you’d be getting married! He said l could make your wedding cake, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” answered Arya. Gendry must have been pretty confident she would accept his proposal if he was discussing wedding cake plans with Hot Pie.

“Great!” Hot Pie was grinning from ear to ear. “I couldn’t believe when he said you’d be getting married! I always thought you two might have something goin’ on, when we were all runnin’ around together, back in the day. And here ya are, a lord and a princess!”

Hot Pie sniffed the air and turned back to his oven. “My bread is almost done, and I got some other things to do, but I’ll come up and have dinner with ya tonight,” he promised Arya and Gendry, who said their farewells and let him work.

Gendry took her hand again and led her up the stairs, nodding at everyone else working in the kitchens. “I’m feeling very pressured to marry you now,” she teased as he led her up the stairs again. “It seems like you’ve told everyone that I would.”

Gendry stopped in the great hall, which was empty, except for the long tables and benches. He looked sheepish. “Yeah, sorry, love, about that. King Bran sent me that raven saying you’d be coming and I guess I got a bit carried away, telling everyone about you,” he admitted.

“It’s fine.” She squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind compliments.”

He bowed to her, then kissed the hand he still held. “Then I shall compliment you every day of your life. I said you looked beautiful this morning, so that’s all for today.”

She pretended to look affronted. “More than once a day won’t hurt.”

He started to say something but was interrupted by Davos, who cleared his throat loudly. They both turned to him.

“Just got back from the cove, the weather took a real turn, and I do think a dock would do well there. We’ll probably have to rebuild it once a year, due to the blasted storms around here. I heard some stories about your fighting today on my way up here, lass, which didn’t come as much of a surprise to me as the others. Anyway, I happened to be walking by and thought I’d see what you were up to for the rest of the day,” Davos said to them.

“I thought I’d take Arya down to the village. I want to introduce her to some people.”

“Sounds like a good plan, lad. Usually I’d ask Zak to go with you, but I’m sure Lady Arya can guard you better than he could,” Davos remarked, which made Arya grin.

“Thank you, Ser Davos. I shall guard his lordship with my life,” Arya quipped.

“You know I saved Davos from some Gold Cloaks once, but I guess we’re just going to ignore that,” Gendry countered.

Arya and Davos both looked at him, and then each other, but said nothing.

“Well, I’ll see you at dinner.” Davos bowed and disappeared up a staircase.

Gendry turned to Arya. “You know, I’m not a bad fighter.”

“I’m sure you are, dearest. I mean, I’ve never seen you actually fight, so I can’t really say if you are, but you’ve survived, and that’s all you need,” she teased him. 

He sighed. “Let’s just go.”

* * *

The village was small, but quite picturesque, and full of some of the friendliest people Arya had ever met. Gendry had introduced Arya as his betrothed to everyone they came across. They had stopped by a few houses and businesses, seeing if anyone needed anything, and if they did Gendry would repeat it back, like he was making a mental note of it in his mind and wanted to get it right.

They were on the way to the blacksmith’s shop when Arya mentioned his quirk to him.

“Since I can’t write well yet, I do try and just keep it all in my head. I usually do pretty well, but I tell them to come to petitions anyway in case I forget,” he told her. 

“Do you like being Lord Paramount?” She had been concerned it might be too much for him, having no real practical experience at it. Gendry obviously wasn’t the best at everything it entailed yet, but he was lucky he had the best people to support him. And, to her, it seemed he was doing rather well at being a lord, considering the circumstances.

“To be honest, after my first couple days here, I thought about leaving. I was terrible. Figured no one would care if I left. But then I thought someone worse might get sent here, someone who couldn’t understand the problems people have. So I decided to just deal with it and stay here.” 

He abruptly pulled her into an empty alley and gently pushed her up against the dark stone wall and planted his hands on either side of her head, his gaze intense. “I also had to do something to keep my mind off of you.”

He leaned down and hovered inches away from her lips, and she felt his breath feather over her own lips. She groaned. “Quit teasing me.”

Then he finally kissed her, slow at first, their lips exploring each other, but then she opened her mouth and he pulled her to him roughly, deepening their kiss. He tasted like sea salt and she couldn’t get enough. She slipped her hands around him and up into his hair. 

It was then that a child ran past the opening of the alleyway, yelling something about trying to catch a goat, and they sprang apart, both flush and breathing heavy.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this where anyone could just see it,” he muttered, smoothing out the back of his hair.

She smiled up at him innocently. “Why not? I don’t particularly care.” 

He looked down at her and sighed. “You’re going to be the death of me, I just know it.” He kissed the top of her head and then grabbed her hand again. “Come on, I want you to meet Ger, he’s the blacksmith here.”

“I’m sure you two were fast friends.”

“Not at first. I think he thought when I expanded the forge at the castle and started making weapons that I was going to cut into his business. But then I let him know that I would let him sell anything I made and he could keep the coin.” He grinned. “Then we were friends.”

Ger was younger than Arya had assumed, with a vivacious wife named Liza, and two eager young daughters, named Jeyne and Sara, who both wanted to go into their father’s trade. The blacksmith shop was larger and nicer than most of the others Arya had been to before, which she attributed to Liza’s influence.

“May I see your sword, m’lady,” Ger asked as Gendry looked over Ger’s new items with Liza, who ran the business side of the shop. Arya could overhear them discussing prices. The sisters crowded around as Arya handed Ger Needle. 

“Is this what you stabbed the Night King with, m’lady,” Sara asked, watching her father examine the sword, fascinated.

Arya shook her head. “No, I got him with this.” She unsheathed her dagger, showing it to them. 

“Can we hold it,” asked Sara. Jeyne touched the flat of the blade gingerly.

Arya looked at Ger, who nodded in agreement. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” Arya warned them, and handed it to Sara, who eventually handed it over to her sister to inspect. 

Ger glanced at the dagger as the girls held it. “Valyrian steel, and a castle-forged sword. No wonder his lordship fell in love with you,” Ger joked, chuckling.

“He also forged me a spear made with dragonglass,” she replied proudly. Gendry made eye contact with her across the room and gave her a wink.

“Only the finest for m’lady, even if it was a rush job,” Gendry commented humbly. The girls giggled.

Jeyne and Ger returned Arya’s weapons to her, and she and Gendry chatted with them awhile until a soldier came in to find a replacement sword. The girls walked them out while Liza and Ger helped their customer.

“Lord Gendry, can Sara and I come work at the castle forge one day?” Jeyne looked up expectantly at him as they stood outside the store.

Gendry crouched down so he was at eye level with both the girls. “If your father and mother don’t need you, and if Lady Arya and I are still alive, you can be our head smiths,” he promised. He patted them both on the head and warned them to get back inside the shop. Both girls curtsied and ran back inside, chattering excitedly.

Arya’s heart felt like it might burst. What would it be like if they had two little girls?

“Are you alright? You have a strange look on your face,” he asked, concerned. He grabbed her hand and gently squeezed it.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, giving him a quick smile. “I’m getting hungry, and we told Hot Pie we’d eat with him tonight. We should head back.”

He looked unsure, but he took her back to the castle anyway, pointing out the other highlights of the village along the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like fluff because that’s all this chapter contains.
> 
> Zak is the older brother Gendry never had, and Dadvos is his dad, and they really like to rag on each other hard.
> 
> Yes, Arya and Gendry have cute nicknames for each other. Gendry calls her “love” or “my love” and she calls him “dear” or “dearest.”
> 
> So bad news! I’ve come to the end of what I already had written, so updates will probably take longer. Good news! I have a whole other document full of segments I’ve already written and an outline with what I want to do, so it shouldn’t take me long to write! Hopefully!
> 
> Next chapter is smut.


	8. Petitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry have petitions, and then they catch up. Smut, fluff, and angst ahead.

They dined with Hot Pie in Round Hall that night, as promised. He excitedly told them about his plans for their wedding cake and what he had been baking lately. Arya told everyone some stories about her times at sea, the funniest but worst one involving someone continually getting seasick for almost two weeks. 

Gendry had been drinking ale with Andrue and some of the other soldiers later in the evening when Arya had appeared behind him and whispered in his ear. “I think we should go up to your room now.” Then she quickly scampered away, and he heard her tell Brienne goodnight.

The way she said it made his ears turn red, and he put his drink down. “Well, lads, I’m off. Got a long day tomorrow.”

Andrue had seen Arya whisper in his ear and gave Gendry a very knowing look. “Aye, m’lord, I think you might have a long night tonight, too.” Andrue nodded his head and indicated where Arya was talking to Davos. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Gendry.

Gendry just shrugged coyly. “Who can say?

He left them, happy from the ale and merrymaking, and made his way up the stairs to his room. He hadn’t seen Arya leave. He assumed she was waiting for him.

She _was_ waiting, perched on the edge of his bed. It was tall enough that her feet couldn’t quite reach the floor. Her sword and dagger lay on the table nearby.

He leaned up against the bedpost next to where she was sitting. He really tried to seem nonchalant, but his heart was pounding at the sight of her in his bed, even if they were both fully clothed.

“Shouldn’t you be in your own room? I had them make it nice for you,” he teased.

She lifted her eyebrow at his suggestion. “I can go if you’d prefer.” She started to get up.

He lightly pushed her back down on the bed before she could leave. “You can stay right here.”

She sat back on her elbows, her legs still dangling. “Davos won’t think it’s proper.”

He knew she was right, but he didn’t really care. All he had wanted since he got to Storm’s End was Arya in his bed, where he could hopefully keep her. He shrugged. “He doesn’t need to know.”

She smiled. “Everyone knows anyway.”

He had to agree. He had been teased about it constantly at dinner. “We are betrothed.”

She sat up and took off her shirt, followed by her breeches. “That really means we should be more proper, not less.”

He smirked. “Didn’t think you were one for propriety and all that.”

A moment later she was standing naked in front of him. How did she do that so quickly? Gendry’s eyes were drawn to her scars on her stomach, dark red, looking almost like claw marks. He reached out and caressed them. “How did you get them? I’ve been meaning to ask you since the first time I saw them.”

She gave him an annoyed look. “My tits are in your face and that’s what you’re worried about?”

He smiled wryly. “Your tits are nice, and I like looking at them a lot, but I’m curious about your scars. They look like they were painful.”

She sighed. “I was stabbed in Braavos, when I was training to become a Faceless Man. I almost died. They don’t hurt at all now. There, now you know.” It was apparent by her tone of voice that she wasn’t thrilled about sharing this tiny bit of information with him while her intentions were elsewhere.

“Thanks for telling me.” She had other scars, less prominent, all over her body. That was the problem with loving a warrior; they always seemed to injure themselves. He had several himself. He undressed as quickly as he could while maneuvering her towards the bed, guiding her with his hand on her shoulder. 

He pushed her down on the bed again, more forcefully, and she laid down back on it again. “I like it when you tell me things. You know, I still barely know what happened to you after we got separated. I heard about the Red Wedding and thought you were there, hoped you weren’t. The gossip never mentioned you, but I figured everyone thought you were already dead anyways.”

She pulled him down to her, and he rested his forearms on either side of her on the bed. Her lips met his and she pulled him down even further on top of her with her legs, which wrapped around him.

His lips left hers and traveled downward to her throat. “I went to Braavos. I trained to be a Faceless Man, like I said. I renounced it, then I went to Winterfell,” she explained breathily.

He looked up at her briefly. “What do you do to become Faceless?” He had been curious about it since she had mentioned it once before, especially about the faces she wore and how she could detect people were lying.

She gave him an irritated look. “Look, can we just fuck first? I can tell you the details later.”

“Yeah, alright.” He begrudgingly went back to tasting her skin, his mouth on her collarbone. She moaned loudly and her hands tugged lightly in his hair.

“I want to tell you everything. I know you’re one of the few people who won’t judge what I’ve done. I will tell you, I promise. I just need time,” she explained, in between heavy breaths.

He paused and smiled up at her. “I’ll give you all the time you need. We have our whole lives.”

* * *

He woke up before her again. Gendry watched Arya sleep, her loud snores eventually fading to normal breathing. Sometimes it was hard for him to reconcile his memory of her as a broken young girl to the beautiful, strong woman she had become. He fought the urge to touch her, feel her skin under his fingers, but he didn’t want to wake her.

The sun finally rose enough for the sunbeams to shine through the open window onto her face, waking her. Her grey eyes gazed into his blue ones.

“Good morning,” she told him softly, kissing his nose, then wrapped her arms around his chest, laying her head on top of him.

“Morning. We have to get up. Petitions start early,” he told her reluctantly.

“I know you’ll do well.”

He wished he had the same amount of confidence in himself as she seemed to. “I’ll try my best for you.”

“Don’t do it just for me. Do it for you. Do it for our people.”

He looked down at her. “ _ Our  _ people?” 

She just nodded her head. “Well, yes. If we’re getting married, which is what I guess I agreed to, the Stormlands will belong to me just as much as you.” She untangled herself from him and rolled off the bed, finding her clothes that had been strewn about the night before and putting them on.

He watched her put on her clothes as a thought occurred to him. He hesitated to voice it aloud but knew it was important. “Erm, Arya, we’ve fucked a couple times now, and well, I hadn’t thought about it, but anyways, I should have, but I didn’t, and now, well, I don’t know how you feel about children, but...”

She interrupted him while she laced up her boots, concentrating hard on it. “I can’t get pregnant, if that’s what you’re trying to tell me. When I was stabbed, it damaged that part of me. The maester at Winterfell told me after he healed my head after I killed the Night King. Luckily, everything else vital was spared. But I’m sorry, I can’t give you heirs.” She stood up, her face solemn and tears in her eyes.

He threw off the sheet that had been covering him and bolted up, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tight. “Don’t apologize to me. I don’t give a damn about heirs. I’ll leave it all to someone, there’s lots of good people here. All I care about is that you’re alright,” he said, his lips moving against the top of her head. He rubbed her back soothingly. It felt strange, comforting Arya, naked, while she was fully dressed. It was also uncomfortable, but if she needed him, his own comfort was last on his list of priorities.

She pulled away after awhile, wiping her eyes. “I’m fine now. I was just dreading telling you. I was honestly stupid to think you would care.”

“Yeah, you were.” He smoothed her wild, unbound hair, and kissed her forehead. “Even if you were able and still didn’t want children, I wouldn’t care. None of this,” he said, gesturing at the castle in general, “None of it matters without you.”

She took a deep breath, and, smiling, took his hand. “I love you.” 

“I love you more than anything,” he promised, taking her hand and kissing it. He dropped her hand and watched her, looking for any kind of a sign that she was still upset. He didn’t notice anything in her face that indicated that she was, so he dropped it.

“I have to go now. Plum will be here soon to do my hair. I asked her if she could cut it. It might take awhile,” she told him as she walked towards the door.

“I’ll come and get you before it all starts.” She smiled at him as she shut the door. 

Minutes later, as he was washing his face, Davos announced himself and walked through his door without knocking.

“You should probably knock next time,” Gendry warned him. 

Davos stood next to him as Gendry combed his hair. “Well, I heard Lady Arya was in her room with Plum, so I thought I’d be safe.” 

Gendry just shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Is there something you needed?”

“No, lad, I just wanted to make sure you were ready. It’s only petitions for Storm’s End today, so it should be pretty short, I’d imagine.”

“Thank the gods for that. I think it’ll go fine. I’ll have Arya.” He still felt apprehensive about it, but having Arya there would help. The way she believed in him gave him a bit more confidence. Just a bit.

Davos grinned. “Ser Brienne and I will be waiting downstairs for you then.” He bowed slightly and took his leave, closing the door behind him. Gendry turned to the window, gazing down at the tumultuous sea below, and steeling himself against his insecurities.

Plum knocked on his door some time later, and told him Arya was finally ready. He thanked Plum for telling him, and went to Arya’s door and knocked. She quickly opened it.

“How polite of you to knock,” she teased. She was wearing a long yellow dress, which he stared at for awhile, confused. It was rather pretty, and was definitely Baratheon yellow, as Arya called it.

“Where did this come from,” he asked, indicating her dress. The dress Sansa had sent had definitely been blue. It also fit Arya well, the hem just hitting the floor.

She smiled, and twirled. “Do you like it? Plum told me that she thought they had a dress from some former Lady of Storm’s End that might fit me. She wasn’t sure whose it was, but she found it while cleaning my room a couple weeks ago, and had the seamstresses fit it for me with the clothes Sansa sent. She really wanted me to wear it. I thought I’d be nice.” She shrugged, almost shy.

He thought she looked beautiful, but he always thought she looked beautiful. “Plum was right, it fits you really well. I’m surprised you wanted to wear a dress though.”

“I was just joking before. I don’t mind them anymore.”

“Your hair looks good,” he remarked. It was as short as when he had seen her for the first time in Winterfell. She wore it down, with two braids in the front. 

“Aren’t you complimentary today. What’s with all the flattery?” She gave him a teasing smile.

He narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Can’t I compliment my betrothed, m’lady?”

She shook her head in annoyance. “Let’s just go.”

He just offered her his hand, which she took, and he led her to Round Hall. He was sure she didn’t know her way around yet. Storm’s End was massive. It had taken him weeks to figure out where all the halls and stairways had led.

He led her to the back door of the hall and opened it for her. Arya walked ahead of him, then stopped and waited for him. He took her arm and escorted her. He usually sat on his uncomfortable stone throne-like chair alone, and Davos and Brienne would sit next to him, in more comfortable-looking chairs. Today, however, there were two stone thrones, and Brienne and Davos sat on either side of them. No one else was in the hall yet.

Davos and Brienne both stood as they saw Arya and Gendry approaching. Davos gestured for them to sit, while Brienne went to the door at the end of the hall to open the door.

As Arya and Gendry sat, Gendry turned to his love and said, “Just so you know, the stone throne is fucking uncomfortable.”

Arya giggled, and Davos smothered a laugh.

Brienne opened the door, and a line of people from Storm’s End and the village filed in.

* * *

It was tradition in the Stormlands for all guards to have the day off on petitions day, so today was one of the rare days Gendry kept his warhammer with him. Not that he was expecting trouble, but he had learned of the treachery of humanity early in life, and so he came prepared. Arya, Brienne, and Davos had come similarly armed. He kept his warhammer leaning up against his throne, within arms reach.

Gendry had consulted Arya on every decision so far, and if anyone hadn’t known about his betrothed before, they knew now. Brienne had interjected once, and her advice was accepted. Davos seemed content to sit there quietly, looking on happily.

A tall, dark-haired woman approached alone. She had a fierce look of determination on her face. She bowed quickly.

“M’lord, m’lady, I want to join the guard. I know how to use a sword and a bow, though I’m better with a bow. I have no armor, but I have weapons that my father gave me before he died.” The woman looked ready to argue no matter what.

“Do you have money for armor,” Gendry asked neutrally.

The woman reddened. “Not yet, m’lord. I work as a seamstress with my mother, and she doesn’t approve of my dreams.” The woman’s face turned fierce again. “But you’re a warrior, m’lady, and Ser Brienne is a knight, and I think women should be allowed to be in the guard.”

“What is your name,” Arya asked, curious.

“Kora, m’lady.”

“Kora, I would like to make you your armor, and I’m sure Ser Brienne would be glad to have you in the guard,” Gendry offered. He knew some people might object, but the two greatest warriors living in the Stormlands were women, so how could they?

“I would be agreeable to the situation, m’lord,” Brienne murmured, pleased.

“Then it’s settled,” Gendry stated. 

“Thank you, m’lord, m’lady,” Kora said, bowing. She was beaming.

“I’ll look forward to sparring with you,” Arya added, nodding.

Kora returned the nod, then left to let the next person in line come forward.

* * *

“I don’t know why you think you’re not good at that,” Arya said as she and Gendry made their way to his forge after the petitions were finished for the day. It was after lunch, and they were going to eat while Gendry worked on their new recruit’s armor. He had changed his clothes, forgoing his fancy clothes for ones he could work in, but she had kept her dress on.

He shrugged. “Dunno. I wasn’t born into this like you.”

“Being a good lord isn’t about where you were born, in my opinion. You’re a good man. You care about people. That’s what matters.”

He looked at her, grinning, happy from her praise. “You know not everyone thinks the way you do though, right?”

“Yes, I do know, but my opinion of you should be the only one that counts,” she teased. He held the forge door open for her, and she looked around in approval.

Gendry ate his lunch quickly, then got straight to work on the armor. He would get some more measurements from Kora later, but he wanted to start on the basic shape. Arya lounged on top of a table nearby, loudly biting into an apple from time to time, her attention mostly fixed on him as he worked.

She spoke up rather suddenly, breaking his concentration. “I was talking to Brienne earlier, and it seemed like she came here because her memories of the North and King’s Landing were too painful for her to stay there. Do you know what she was talking about?”

He did not really want to talk about Brienne’s reasons for coming to Storm’s End, as it entertwined with his own reason for coming here. But he knew he would have no peace from Arya if he didn’t say. “Aye, I know why.”

“If you’d rather not say, or if it’s a secret, I will understand. I just didn’t know if she lost too many friends in battle,” she guessed, her voice quiet.

She stayed silent, waiting for him to tell her or not tell her. Gendry hammered on a metal plate, collecting his thoughts, and got to a point where he could stop. He then, somewhat reluctantly, went to her while picking up a rag and wiping the ash off his face. He leaned against the table, next to her, and sighed.

“After you turned my offer of marriage down, I moped for about three days. I would go down to the hall in Winterfell and get drunk on wine and then go to your room and sleep in your bed. Sansa never stopped me, she must have known, or maybe Brienne convinced her to let me alone, I’m not sure,” he explained, pain welling up in his chest just thinking about it. Arya got up and stood next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. It was such a confusing time for me. People had all these expectations of me after I stabbed the bloody Night King, and I felt...pressured. That night, when you told me you loved me and I left, I cried in my room for hours. I thought that even you, my love, didn’t understand me, didn’t understand who I was,” Arya explained.

He just pulled her closer to him, grabbing her around the waist and pressing her against his side. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest. “We probably both should’ve explained ourselves better,” he joked, and she smiled.

“Anyways, the reason I didn’t go to King’s Landing with the army was that I was supposed to be heading off to Storm’s End, in the very off chance things went bad against Cersei. Brienne was to go with me, temporarily, just for introductions and all that, but no one had seen her in several days, so I thought maybe she had secretly decided to go fight Cersei as well. Then, on the fourth day of my eternal gloom, Brienne sat next to me at breakfast. I hadn’t started drinking yet that day. That’s when she told me a story,” he continued, then paused. It was so hard to talk about it, the lowest point of his life. “She had loved Ser Jaime Lannister, of all people. They had history together. She even told me they had lain together after The Long Night.” 

Arya looked up at him, eyes wide in shock. “I knew that they regarded each other highly, but I didn’t know that.” 

He shook his head. “Not many know. Ser Podrick. Tyrion Lannister. Queen Sansa. Possibly Davos. King Bran, but he knows everything,” Gendry listed. He continued. “Jaime left, as you know, to be with Cersei. Brienne had begged him to stay, but he convinced himself that he didn’t deserve Brienne, and he left her in tears, and that was the last time they saw each other. By the time she finished her story about her and Jaime, it was almost midday. I asked her why she was admitting this all to me, and she said it was because it was obvious we were both going through the same thing. Complete heartbreak.” 

He turned to look at her. “Don’t feel guilty about how you left me. I know you will, but I understand why you said what you said. I fucking hated it, but I understand. Now I do, anyway,” he said comfortingly to her, but her eyes started to water anyway. He knew her better than anyone ever would. Gendry leaned down and wiped her tears away gently. “Anyways, Brienne told me that we couldn’t wallow in the North anymore, that we were finally going to the Stormlands. She promised to teach me about her homeland on the way down. So we left that day, leaving some of our grief back in Winterfell, both of us burying it in the snow.” His gaze looked vacant, like he was recalling a shit memory, because he was. She touched his face and his eyes refocused on her.

“The last news of Jaime she got was that he was buried under the rubble of the Red Keep. She went to King’s Landing after Jon was imprisoned, and stayed on the council for awhile, but she came back to Storm’s End one day and told me it all reminded her too much of Jaime. So she said she wanted to stay here, which I am grateful for. I’m telling you this so you understand her. But this has got to be between me and you only. She values her privacy.”

Arya nodded in agreement. She couldn’t help the silent tears that ran down her face, for herself, for Gendry, for Brienne, even a little bit for Jaime Lannister, as much as she had disliked him in the past. He looked down and pulled her in closer. “You and I are much luckier than Brienne. Jaime couldn’t come back to her, but you could. And you did.”

Arya knew then that she would never leave his side. She had promised him time and time again that she wouldn’t, and she had thought she was convincing, but at this moment she knew that it would kill her to leave him in that much pain again. 

His expression lightened. “I will say Brienne is luckier in one regard. At least she knew where and why Jaime left, even if it was terrible. All I got was a ‘fuck you Gendry, I won’t marry you,’ and then you just left with not another word,” he teased. 

She choked out a laugh between tears and rolled her eyes. “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

He nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. I have to have something on you.” He gave her an innocent look, and she lightly punched his arm.

He got up and went back to working on the armor. “You can go, if you want. I’ll probably be down here awhile,” he told her, focusing on what he had left to do.

She shook her head. “No, I like watching you,” she insisted, wiping away her tears.

He smirked. “Yeah, you always have, haven’t you?”

She looked at him indignantly, her tears all dried up now. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Gendry just shook his head as he concentrated on hammering. He was smiling though, and she didn’t trust it. She crossed her arms and gave him an intimidating stare.

After awhile he saw her look and sighed. “Fine. Just remember you wanted to know,” Gendry warned begrudgingly, pointing at her. His face turned slightly red but he put down his tools again and looked at her. “It’s just that, I saw you looking at me in Harrenhal, when we were kids. And I saw you at Winterfell, watching me. I’m not completely dumb, I know what it means,” he mumbled, automatically regretting this line of conversation. Why would he bring this up? Obviously Arya was attracted to him; they had lain together last night, and the night before that. Now he felt embarrassed and foolish.

“Gendry.” She said his name in the voice he now recognized as the one she used when she seduced him. He swallowed thickly.

“Yeah.” That was all he could say. He was trying to keep his thoughts pure. He couldn’t take her here. Anyone walking by would probably hear them. But he also couldn’t think straight with that look she was giving him, like she wanted to devour him. And how could he deny her anything?

She took off her white gloves that had gone with her dress, and he couldn’t help but stare at her bare hands. “I do like watching you in the forge.” She stepped closer to him. He changed his mind. If she wanted him here, in the forge, he wouldn’t care if everyone in Storm’s End walked in. She stood next to him and ran her finger up his bare arm. He shivered at her touch. She gave a self-satisfied smirk.

“When I watched you in Harrenhal, I had never had an impure thought in my life until then,” she admitted, and in his mind he swore his cock had never been so hard in his life. “Lots of girls have crushes on older boys, and even if I wasn’t the girliest girl, I wasn’t any different.” Her eyes were very intent on his, and he found himself unable to look away. She drug her finger across his back as she circled behind him, and he couldn’t help the sharp hiss of breath he let out. His whole body clenched.

“Then when I saw you in Winterfell again, yes, I’ll admit I watched you. I had a lot more competition there. Did you know a lot of the maids fancied you,” she inquired innocently, as she walked around to face him again, this time her hands traveling up his chest. He shook his head negatively. He couldn’t recall what any other woman in Winterfell even looked like, besides her. As soon as he had seen her in the forge, defending him against the Hound’s dumb comments, his mind and eyes had only been on her.

Arya kept her fingers wrapped loosely around his neck, then leaned in and talked lowly in his ear. She had to get on her tiptoes to reach him, and he bent down to help her as well, his body automatically drawn to hers. “I like watching you in a forge. You’re all sweat and ash and muscles and it makes me so wet. The maids thought you were handsome, but they couldn’t have you. Only I get you,” she purred, then bit his earlobe softly. 

He had never wanted her so bad in his life. He had never wanted anything so bad in his life. He carried her back over to the table and sat her down on it, then kissed her so hard her head tilted back a bit. How they had gone from talking about being heartbroken one minute to fucking the next he would never know.

“Take off your clothes.” He couldn’t say any more than that as he stripped himself of his own sweaty clothes. Once he was done he helped her get her dress off, placing it on the only clean part of the table farthest from the fire. Then his mouth was back on hers, his tongue inside her mouth and his fingers inside her cunt. She was wet already, and it was glorious. He liked knowing Arya was turned on by him.

She moaned loud enough for it to echo off the stone walls, and he laughed. “Be quiet, love. Who knows who’s outside,” he warned her, then continued stroking her, feeling her close around him.

Arya pulled his fingers away impatiently. “I want you inside me,” she demanded, and grabbed his cock to put inside her.

He groaned. “Arya, I won’t last long. What you said before was so...fucking...good.” It was all he could say as he closed his eyes and felt her hands on his cock, making it twitch in her hand. He was really close, and he wanted to be inside her first.

“I’ve always wanted you to fuck me in here,” she admitted, and he braced his hands on either side of her hips and pushed inside her, her words driving him to forgo his usual restraint.

She was so wet and tight and felt so good. She was panting and every time he thrust back in she heard her pleasured moans. He held himself back so she would come first, wanting to watch her face as she came below him. He bent down to take her nipple in his mouth and she cried out his name, which echoed around the room again. He, however, was beyond caring who heard them at this point.

She tightened around his cock and he knew she was there. Arya grabbed him and pulled him closer as he felt her spasming around him. He finally let go too and came inside her. Gendry kissed her cheeks tenderly, wanting to communicate how he felt without saying it. Her legs were shaking as he pulled out of her, and they were both breathing heavily.

He leaned on her for support and she kept her arms around him, rubbing his back. He finally felt strong enough to look up at her. She always looked so beautiful afterwards, in the afterglow. Her hair was messy, her skin was flushed, and she always smiled softly, so much more peaceful then normal. He couldn’t help but kiss her, to love her, to worship her. 

“I love you,” she sighed as he stepped away from her. 

“I love you. Do you see where I threw my shirt,” he asked her while he looked on the ground behind him. She cleared her throat and he turned to see her holding it. 

“What would I do without you, love,” he asked rhetorically as he scrambled to get the rest of his clothes on.

She hopped off the table and grabbed her dress, finding her other clothes and pulling them on first. “You would be dead without me. That’s not an exaggeration either. You would have been killed by a white walker, and you would no longer be amongst the living. So you’re welcome,” she taunted. 

“You won’t find any arguments with me.”

“For once.”

He looked affronted as he finished dressing. “I never argue with you. I don’t know what you mean.”

Arya just rolled her eyes. 

Someone cleared their throat loudly on the other side of the door. “M’lord, m’lady, Kora has arrived to give her measurements for her armor as you requested,” Zak announced.

Gendry glanced at Arya, who was straightening her hair, but was otherwise looking normal. He nodded at her, and she winked back at him.

He went to the wooden door and opened it.  _ I didn’t even lock the fucking door,  _ he thought as he let them Zak and Kora in.

Zak just grinned knowingly and Kora stared down at the floor as she curtsied. Gendry was sure she was smiling though. 

“Sorry if you were waiting long. His lordship and I were just catching up on some things,” Arya said haughtily. Gendry knew Arya’s proud demeanor wouldn’t deter Zak from teasing them.

Zak just laughed. “That’s definitely what it sounded like. A lot of catching up. Right,” he joked. “Well, I’ll be training in the yard, since my duty is done. I bid you good day, m’lord, m’lady, and I hope you will both be quieter next time you catch up.” Gendry could hear Zak chuckling as he made his way back to the other soldiers, who would definitely be hearing about the lord and lady of the keep fucking in the forge. That was the kind of gossip Zak would gleefully tell everyone he met.

Gendry looked at Arya, who just shrugged. If she didn’t care, then he wouldn’t either. He turned to Kora, who was noticeably avoiding looking at either him or Arya.

“So, should we get started?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry this took me so long to update. Been going through some stuff, but it’s all good now. Will hopefully be updating weekly from now on.
> 
> Second, if you have any ideas for Arya and Gendry and their life in Storm’s End, feel free to message me. I have a vague outline written for this story, but more could be added.
> 
> Third, I know it’s like such a Gendrya trope, but I had to write some forge sex. Had to be done.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading.


	9. Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry make plans for the future. Arya tells Gendry of her past.

Arya and Gendry skipped dinner in the hall that night, avoiding the certain teasing they would hear about their tryst in the forge earlier. Kora had said nothing while Gendry had talked to her about her armor, and she had seemed relieved to escape when he had the information he required.

Arya personally wasn’t concerned about any gossip, and she was relieved when Gendry didn’t say anything about it either. She hadn’t gone to the forge with the purpose of seducing him, but it had happened, and it would most likely happen again. She should be more discreet though, she supposed.

After dinner, she started reading lessons. It was obviously important to Gendry to learn how, and she had no objections to teaching him. When he had written all the letters in order after many attempts, they stopped for the night.

Arya had gone to her room to change into her nightclothes for once, and when she came back to Gendry’s room she found him staring out the window at the sea, which was relatively calm, lit up by the moon peeking out of the clouds.

He turned to look at her when he heard his door open. “What’s out there, Arya? Beyond the sea? My world used to be so small, just King’s Landing really. I never thought of much more.” She came over to the window next to him, and he grabbed her and held her. “But you made my world so much bigger. I want to know everything you saw.”

She liked being in his arms. It felt right. She belonged here.

“I’ll tell you a story every night, some odd thing I saw on the sea, or in Braavos, or even in Winterfell. Then you can tell me a story about King’s Landing, or about here. That way we’ll never get tired of each other, even when we’re old and shriveled.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I could never tire of you.”

“Well, I definitely will. You can be a really tiring man, you know that?” 

He shrugged. “I do try,” he teased.

They made their way to the bed, and as soon as she lay down next to him he pulled her close to him again. “Gendry, why do you have a straw mattress? I have a feather bed, that I’ve never even used.” She had meant to ask him before, but she was usually distracted by him and their nighttime activities for her to remember.

“I can’t sleep on a featherbed. Too soft. I tried for days. I had them put it in Zak’s room. That’s why he’s my most loyal guard now.” Arya thought he might be joking, but perhaps Zak liked a soft bed. “I can bring it back if you want it though. If you’re here, I hardly care what kind of bed I have.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t need it. No featherbed for me.” 

“Are you my forest lass? Like the song,” he teased drowsily.

“We live in a castle, so I’d say no,” she replied sarcastically. “Doesn’t the lord in the song promise to guard his lady with his sword? You don’t even have one.”

“We can get a minstrel to change it to a hammer in the song. Lots of things rhyme with ‘hammer.’”

He was definitely half-asleep. She just sighed. “Go to sleep, Gendry.”

* * *

Arya woke up before the sun had even risen over the ocean horizon. She slowly moved Gendry’s arms from around her, kissed his brow lightly, and quietly made her way to her room. He didn’t stir. She started a fire in her fireplace, for light. She had requested some scrolls and a quill last night, and she found them atop her old but lovely wood desk. She got dressed for the day, lit some candles, then sat down and started to write some letters that she had been too busy to write before.

_ Dear Bran, _

_ I’m sure you’ve made it to Tarth by now, and I’m sure you know, but I’ve accepted Gendry’s proposal of marriage. We haven’t planned much of the wedding besides the cake, but it’s my greatest wish to have my whole family here. So make sure nothing bad happens to the kingdoms until then. _

_ When I say I want my whole family here, I mean Jon as well. Is there any way you can pardon him? I know Sansa has. The only people who wished him banished are no longer a part of the kingdoms. Can Gendry pardon him, here in the Stormlands? I’m not sure how this works. I’ll discuss it further with you and Davos. _

_ Word has reached me, dear brother, that you have invited Meera Reed to King’s Landing. I know she helped you in your travels, as Gendry aided me in mine. I hope your feelings are the same, because Gendry makes me so very happy, and I think all of the Starks deserve some happiness.  _

_ Feel free to stop by after your meetings in Tarth. I really would like to hear more of your royal activities. You will be welcome here at Storm’s End. _

_ Your sister, Arya _

Before she started the second one, she opened the window nearby. Summers down south were sweltering. She also loved the sound of the sea below.

_ Dear Sansa, _

_ Perhaps Bran or Jon have warned you ahead of time, but I wanted to tell you myself that I have returned to Westeros, I have come to Storm’s End, and I have consented to marry the Lord Paramount, Gendry Baratheon. I have told you a little of my relationship with him, but I want you to know I love him dearly, and I think I shall be quite happy here. I hope I’ve made a good enough match as to not disgrace the Stark name. _

_ I haven’t made any wedding plans yet, but I would like your advice on everything. You’ve always been much better at these kinds of things than me. They have a weirwood tree here, and I think I would like the ceremony there. I’m trying to get Bran to pardon Jon so he can be here as well.  _

_ I’ve heard a rumor that a man has gained your favor. Please bring him with you as well, so I can judge him worthy of you or not. _

_ All my love, Arya _

She looked out the window and saw the sun just starting to rise over the dark sea. She hoped Sansa would find her joke about making a good match humorous. That had always been Sansa’s dream; to marry well and live in high society. How differently it had turned out.

_ Dearest Jon, _

_ As you somehow seem to be aware, I am here in the Stormlands with Gendry, and we are betrothed. I want you to know that this very much feels like my home already, and I love Gendry more than I ever thought I could love anyone. _

_ I am working on a way to get you here. I’m very much hoping Bran can pardon you, or perhaps Gendry can here in the Stormlands. Either way, I want you to give me away at the wedding. I don’t care if you have to be smuggled in by Davos, though I hope it doesn’t come to that. _

_ I hope you are well. I can’t imagine how cold it must be up there. It’s hot and stormy here, but Storm’s End itself is lovely with it’s ocean view. It’s rather large though. The people here are very friendly, and Gendry has made a family here that I love already. _

_ I know I’ve hardly ever mentioned my past with Gendry, and I don’t know how much he or Bran has said, but I want you to know I’ve known him for a very long time, and I had thought in my time in Braavos that the Red Woman had killed him. Then we met in Winterfell again, and we fell in love. He is someone I trust with all of my secrets and with my heart. I know you two are friends, and it makes me joyously happy that he can be a part of our family. I hope it makes you happy as well. _

_ Please write back to me as soon as you can. _

_ Much love, Arya _

Someone knocked on the door as she was rolling up her scrolls to her family members. “Come in.”

Plum came in and shut the door behind her. “You’ve never been in here when I’ve come in to get your clothes ready before, m’lady. Did his lordship upset you last night?”

Arya laughed. “Oh, no, I just didn’t want to wake him. I had some scrolls to write. Can you see that these get sent off today? I hadn’t written to my family, and I wanted to tell them my news.” 

“Of course, m’lady. Will you be wantin’ anything else this morning?” Plum grabbed the scrolls from the desk.

“No, I’ve already gotten dressed, and I think I’ll just wear my hair down today, no braids. I can brush it myself. I’m going to head down for breakfast straight away. Thanks though, Plum. You’ve been such a help to me,” Arya said sincerely. Plum beamed.

“I’ll go take care of these scrolls then.” Plum started to curtesy.

“Plum, you don’t have to curtsey every time you see me. And you don’t have to call me ‘m’lady.’ It’s just Arya.”

Plum nodded. “Very well, Arya.” She said the name awkwardly. It was a start. “Will you need me tonight? Andrue was going to take me for a walk on the beach,” Plum asked hopefully.

Arya winked at her. “Go have a good time at the beach. I’m sure his lordship can help me get out of my clothes if I need it.”

Plum giggled. “Thank you. I’ll send these off right away.” 

After Plum left, Arya went back to Gendry’s room. He was pulling on his pants as she walked in.

“Fuck, Arya, I thought you were Davos. He just barges in here all the bloody time,” Gendry said as he finished dressing.

“No, just me. I wrote some scrolls to my family today. I realized it’s been a couple days since I got here, and I haven’t even told them.”

He turned to her while brushing his thick black hair. “What did you tell them?”

She sat down on the side of the bed. “You know, that I’m marrying you, and staying here. I also asked Bran if he could pardon Jon.” She paused. “Speaking of, can you, as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, pardon Jon, just here, like Sansa did in the North? I really want Jon to give me away,” she pleaded. 

He scratched his head. “Um, I’m sure you know that I have no fucking clue if I can do that.”

She smiled at him, amused. “Yeah, I thought that might be so. We should ask Davos or Brienne. Are we meeting them today?”

“Yeah, after breakfast.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?” 

He finished with his hair and sat next to her on the bed. He grabbed her hand. “I get the feeling Davos and Brienne are going to want us to make some very solid plans for our future soon. An announcement of our betrothal, a wedding, naming an heir, all of that. I kept putting it off when you were gone, because I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone but you.” He sighed again and looked at her. “Arya, I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. So, if it’s too much for you, please just tell me, and don’t leave.”

She took a deep breath. “If my family got here today, I’d marry you today. That’s the only reason we’re waiting.” She touched his cheek. “I want to be here. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be. Please believe me.”

He kissed her palm. “I know. Sometimes it just seems like you’re a dream, and I’ll wake up, and you’ll be gone.”

“I’m very real, dearest. And I’ve decided I like it here, in this monstrous place.” She smiled. “Why is this castle so big? I still don’t know my way around.”

He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. “It’s your ancestor that helped build this place. You should know.”

“My father told me the story about how Bran the Builder helped build this place as a young man, and put magic in the stones, so that the sea and wind could never topple the walls.” They walked down to the hall, hand-in-hand. She laughed. “It’s odd to think that I heard that story as a girl, and now I live here.”

“I still can’t believe I live here. In a bloody castle.” He shook his head incredulously. “I thought maybe after the war, if I survived, that I’d stay in Winterfell. I never dreamed of this.”

“We’ll definitely have to visit Winterfell soon. And I suppose we’ll have to go to King’s Landing eventually.”

“We’ll have to go to King’s Landing first. I still have to report to the council on the status of the Stormlands.”

A crack of thunder reverberated off the walls as they went in Round Hall for breakfast, which everyone ignored, like it was a commonplace occurrence. Davos was already halfway through his meal when they arrived.

“M’lord, m’lady, it’s nice to see you after you missed dinner last night. Busy with other things, I suppose,” Davos greeted them. Gendry sat next to him, and Arya next to him. They both ignored Davos’ comment, which made him smile. Plates of food were placed in front of them, and they both began to eat.

“You know which fork to use by now, right,” Arya teased Gendry as he picked his up, nudging him with her elbow.

“I abolished the use of more than one fork at all meals so I couldn’t muck it up,” he said sarcastically. She grinned.

Davos interjected. “It’s absolutely true, lass. I heard the order myself.”

Brienne, Zak, and Andrue arrived and sat across from them and greeted everyone. After a few bites, Andrue spoke. Arya had only seen him from afar, and she scrutinized him now. He and Plum would be a striking couple. His hair seemed even more red on closer inspection, with a gentle face and clear, green eyes.

“Will you be finishing Kora’s armor today, m’lord? I’ve known her a long time. We grew up together. She’s been wanting to be on the guard for years, but she never thought anyone would allow it, especially Lord Stannis. But ever since Ser Brienne and then her ladyship arrived, she’s been tellin’ her mother that she was going to petition for it,” Andrue explained.

Gendry nodded as he tried to swallow some eggs. “I have some meetings today, but afterwards I’ll work on it. I haven’t got much done yet.”

Zak choked. “Yes, we all know how distracted you were yesterday.” Everyone tried to hide their smiles.

Arya just shook her head, amused. Gendry ignored them and their pointed looks and continued to eat.

Brienne turned serious. “I’m very much looking to a female recruit. Maybe once Kora is adopted into our ranks, more women will want to join as well.”

Davos cleared his throat. He had finished his food long ago, but had stayed for the talk. “I also think it a good thing. How can anyone argue when our two best fighters are women?” He nodded to Arya and Brienne. “My own Marya is quite adept with the bow. In this world, it’s best to know how to defend yourself.”

“Quite right,” Andrue agreed.

“Can I meet Marya, Davos? Is she here,” Arya asked. Brienne had mentioned Davos’ wife briefly, and she was curious about her.

“Sorry lass, she’s still at Cape Wrath with my two youngest. I’m hoping that they’ll be coming to visit soon, though,” Davos said hastily, as if he was trying to avoid the subject.

Gendry was the last to finish his meal, and stood up as soon as he was finished. “Well, let’s get this over with.” Davos shook his head, and Brienne let out a small snort. Zak and Andrue just laughed as they walked in another direction towards the training ground.

* * *

Arya sat next to Gendry in his solar again behind the rather large desk again. The sky had once again turned stormy, and extra candles had to be brought in for light. The waves were crashing hard against the cliffs, and the spray could be seen even as high up as they were.

Davos was stroking his gray beard quite often. Arya wondered if he was more overwrought than usual. He spoke as soon as Brienne sat. “M’lord, m’lady, I need to start off this meeting by confessing something. Several days ago, before Lady Arya had even arrived, I called all your banners here. I knew it would take everyone awhile to get here, so I thought it best. I want to ask your forgiveness. It wasn’t my place to do so,” Davos announced, holding his hands up in atonement. Brienne looked startled.

Gendry looked at him, his face blank. “Was there any reason why?”

“To announce your betrothal, of course. I didn’t mention that, however. I told them not to reply to my raven and just come. I thought it would take people weeks to get here, since I told them to come at their leisure by the end of summer, but some already arrived today! The Bucklers from Bronzegate. I guess they had a raven from here in Storm’s End, announcing the betrothal of the Lord Paramount, yesterday morn, and rode here with the intention of finding out the validity of such a claim.” Davos looked pointedly at Arya.

She had forgotten she had sent that raven to Bronzegate, but felt apathetic towards the situation. She had sent out a scroll to a King and Queen announcing her betrothal just this morning. It was well known at this point. No point in hiding it.

Gendry just shrugged. “You don’t need to apologize for anything, Davos. There’s more than enough room here for visitors to stay awhile. It’s all fine with me.”

Davos exhaled. “I’m happy you said that, lad. I’ve been a tad bit worried about it, to be honest. If her ladyship hadn’t come and accepted you, well, we’d be picking you a bride. Figured we should be getting that over with as soon as possible.”

“Well, that won’t be necessary, as I’m here now, and I am his lordship’s betrothed,” Arya cut in curtly. “I hope you didn’t invite all the marriageable ladies of all the houses in the Stormlands.” 

“I certainly didn’t invite them, no.” Davos wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“But you’re assuming that they may show up anyway,” Arya concluded, one eyebrow raised at him.

Brienne cleared her throat. “We should make it very clear that his lordship is unwavering in his choice to marry you, m’lady. Other matches can be made while all our banners are here in Storm’s End,” she commented smoothly. Davos nodded in agreement. Gendry just looked amused, most likely because of her impertinent tone earlier.

Arya sighed. “Yes, that would seem like the best course.” She let it go. She had no right to be upset that they had made plans for Gendry to marry. She had left, and told him to move on. Yet, a small part of her was jealous. She couldn’t help it. Gendry belonged to her, and she to him. She turned back to Davos. “I would like to discuss the future wedding, as it is. I have written my family members today to inform them of it. I asked my brother, Bran, if he would be willing to pardon Jon so he could come here to give me away. I haven’t received an answer yet, obviously, but it got me wondering if Gendry could pardon him here, just in the Stormlands. My sister, Sansa, pardoned Jon in the North, but they’re an independent nation.”

Davos glanced at Brienne, and then back at Arya. “I’m honestly unsure myself, m’lady. I will consult with the maester as soon as we leave here and find out. It would be much easier than getting him a full pardon from all the kingdoms,” Davos replied thoughtfully.

Brienne nodded in agreement. “It’s also something we should consider mentioning when all of your banners have arrived. I’m not sure of anyone’s opinion of Jon Snow here in the Stormlands,” she added.

“Jon knew Lord Stannis. For some that may be enough to win their favor. The loyalty to House Baratheon is quite strong in some parts,” Davos explained.

“I want to pardon Jon, whether it be a popular opinion or not. So far I’ve let most of the great houses of the Stormlands do what they wanted. Jon will be my brother soon, and all of my family should be welcome here,” Gendry argued, and Arya’s heart warmed at him saying he would be part of her family.

“If the maester can’t find any objections, I’m sure the houses won’t either. I personally would love Jon to visit. He and I are great friends as well,” Davos reminded them.

Gendry nodded at Davos. “If anyone should object, I’ll tell them that Jon is a Stark, and therefore an ally of House Baratheon.”

“So it’s settled, that if the maester finds nothing, we will pardon Jon, here in the Stormlands. Agreed?” Brienne looked around at every person one by one, and they all nodded their assent. Brienne continued. “There is one other matter that must be taken care of while all the banners are here in Storm’s End. Ser Davos and I have discussed it and we both feel that Lady Arya should swear her allegiance to the Stormlands after you announce your betrothal.”

“My allegiance to the Stormlands?” Arya wasn’t sure what that all entitled.

“His lordship had to do it as well, as he wasn’t born here. But I feel your allegiances will be questioned even more,” Brienne stated plainly.

“Why’s that,” Gendry asked, curious, but also defensively.

“Lady Arya’s brother is the King of the Six Kingdoms. Her sister is the Queen of the North. Her other brother lives beyond the wall, a leader of the Wildlings. Her cousin, Robin, is Warden of the East. Her uncle, Edmure, is Lord Paramount of the Trident. The other kingdoms are ruled by those who have a favorable view of the Starks.” Brienne looked apologetic. “When I say this, please take no offense, m’lady. I am just looking at this from an outside perspective. House Stark has put themselves in a superior place around Westeros, and as such are a powerful family. Some here might wonder where your loyalties lie.” Brienne looked pained as she spoke.

Arya raised her chin proudly. “I am devoted to my House. I won’t deny it. But Gendry is also my family, and I am devoted to him and the Stormlands, and I will take any oath to prove it to the people here.” 

Davos smirked. “I never thought about it before now, but Gendry’s father would be thrilled by your marriage. An alliance between House Stark and House Baratheon.”

Arya shared a meaningful look with Gendry. They already knew the significance of their union within the history of their families.

Gendry turned back to Davos. “I will address Lord Buckler as soon as we’re done here. I’ll tell him that I’m betrothed, but I won’t say to who. If he sees Arya, he can assume all he wants. But he can meet her officially along with everyone else. I don’t want him telling the other lords and ladies he knew before them.”

“I’m sure the rest will be here soon enough. Buckler could never keep his mouth shut,” Davos muttered. “Probably sent fifty ravens while he rode at breakneck speed here.”

Brienne cut in. “I’ve actually heard from my father in Tarth, last night. As soon as the king finishes his trade negotiations with Dorne, which should be some time today, he and the rest of his delegation will be traveling straight here. He never mentioned why. He must have gotten your scroll, Davos.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I’ve probably started a flurry of panic throughout the Stormlands, and they’ll all be riding hard to make it here as soon as they can.” Davos seemed annoyed with it, even though he only had himself to blame, Arya thought, amused. He perked up. “At least Marya and the boys will be here soon.”

“Lady Arya and I will start planning what she would like her introduction and oath to entail, unless we have any other business,” Brienne inquired. “You two can deal with Lord Buckler.” Davos frowned, and Gendry rolled his eyes.

“Buckler can talk nonsense for two hours without taking a breath,” Gendry grumbled. Arya grinned.

* * *

Brienne and Arya went to Brienne’s personal solar, which was attached to her room, but had a separate entrance from the hallway. Brienne’s office was stark, but the sigil of House Tarth was featured, yellow suns and white crescent moons on an azure and rose background. Arya thought it was rather pretty. Brienne sat behind her desk, which had been painted white, and Arya sat in the plush yellow chair across from her. Arya noticed a small lion figurine next to Brienne’s quill. A Lannister lion, perhaps.

Arya had noticed that Brienne hardly ever took off her armor, and today was no different. She also carried her sword with her constantly.

Brienne interrupted her short reverie as she finished rummaging around for a scroll. “A typical announcement of a Lady of Storm’s End is usually in front of all of the banners. You walk in, and someone will announce your name, House, and your important relations as you walk down the hall to his lordship. You don’t talk to anyone. Then you take his lordship’s hand and your place next to him on your thrones. Afterwards, you receive all the well-wishers.” Brienne paused. “I feel perhaps instead of receiving everyone right away, we should do your oath, then the lords and ladies can come to congratulate you and Lord Gendry.”

“Who do I say my oath to,” Arya asked. She was anxious it would be to some septon she didn’t know.

“I think his lordship, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, makes most sense,” Brienne replied thoughtfully.

“That would be acceptable to me.” She wouldn’t be nervous if she said it to Gendry. He wouldn’t make her say anything she didn’t want to.

“We can work out a script, if the need arises.” Brienne wrote down a note.

Arya fidgeted a bit in her chair. “Brienne, are you happy here, in Storm’s End?” 

Brienne froze, and looked up at her, considering what Arya had said. “I’m happier here than I would be anywhere else.” She went back to writing. “Are you happy here, m’lady?”

Arya was taken aback by the question, but knew confidently how to reply. “Wherever Gendry is, that’s my home, and everyone is happiest when they’re at home.”

Brienne smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, m’lady.”

Arya smiled back. “Me too.”

* * *

Arya saw Gendry at lunch at Round Hall, and he told her that he and Davos had fended off Buckler’s questions about the identity of his betrothed for almost an hour.

“He mostly said all the other ladies from the other houses in the Stormlands were shit compared to his house. It was embarrassing. For everyone,” Gendry recalled, shaking his head in disgust.

“How shocked do you think they’ll be when they find out you’re marrying Arya Stark,” she asked him.

“Pretty surprised, since I think a majority of people think you’re probably dead.”

“The sea is a dangerous place,” Arya agreed, sarcastically.

“I’ve put out the word to keep your identity a secret to everyone, but I don’t know how long it will stay a secret. Andrue took Buckler out hunting, so hopefully that will keep him away long enough. We also found out that he did send a raven to all the houses, and most of them are almost here. We might have the ceremony two days from now.”

Arya’s eyes shot up to Gendry’s, and she felt her voice get a bit shrill. “Two days!” 

He looked at her, confused. “Yeah, Davos thought perhaps tomorrow evening, but I said no.”

She just sighed. “I haven’t even practiced my oath yet.”

He grinned at her. “Wait, in the great warrior Arya Stark actually nervous?”

She picked up a small carrot off her plate and threw it at him. “You don’t have to mock me.”

His grin disappeared. He grabbed one of her hands and held it on top of the table. “Arya, I’m bloody nervous as well. I’m going to pardon Jon, and I have no idea if that will piss everyone off, or if I’ll be cast off from the rest of the kingdoms. Also, I’m presenting you as the Lady of Storm’s End. I don’t want to muck it up.” 

She squeezed his hand. “We’ll both do fine. I know it.”

As they gazed at each other, both smiling, she realized she had been a fool to stay away for so long. He looked at her like she was the only light in a dark room. She liked feeling loved and cherished. It reminded her of her childhood in Winterfell. She hadn’t felt that way much after the death of her father. 

Brienne cleared her throat nearby. She stood discreetly to the side of where they were sitting. “My apologies for interrupting you at lunch, Lady Arya, but afternoon training is set to start soon and I was wondering if you wanted to be there.”

Arya reluctantly turned away from her betrothed. “Yes, Ser Brienne, I shall be out soon. Thank you.” She nodded and smiled at Brienne, who bowed slightly and left.

Gendry released her hand and went back to his food. “Guess I’ll have to be alone in the forge this afternoon. Probably for the best. Don’t want any distractions,” he teased.

Arya looked around quickly, then, not noticing anyone paying attention to them, slowly ran her hand up Gendry’s thigh. “Guess I’ll have to distract you tonight.” 

She bolted off the bench, walking a couple steps before she turned and winked at him. 

* * *

Arya was in the middle of an archery drill with some of the guard hours later when Davos appeared by her side. 

She lowered her bow and looked at him. Zak stood next to her within earshot. Davos’ face was grim. “What is it, Davos? Your face is making me anxious.”

He sighed. “Almost all of lords and ladies of the Stormlands have arrived. They know his lordship is betrothed.” Davos smiled suddenly. “The identity of the lady in question is still unknown, however.”

Arya smiled back. “I guess we should be grateful for that.”

Davos hesitated. “I think it’s best for you to blend in with the others until your announcement tomorrow. Sit with Zak and the others tonight at dinner, and so forth. No need for anyone to know who you are...prematurely, Lady Stark.” He bowed towards her.

“I would love your company at dinner tonight, m’lady,” Zak chimed in.

Davos cleared her throat. “I would also ask you to be discreet if you visit his lordship anytime in his room. I’m sure you’re capable of it, though neither of you seem to exercise much caution in that direction.” Zak laughed but covered it with a fake cough. Arya glared at both of them.

“Don’t worry, Davos, I’m a Faceless Man. Blending in and being discreet are my specialty.” 

* * *

Arya was wearing one of her faces from Braavos, the one of the girl she had called the Waif. She had requested some plainer clothes from Plum, who had explained that a friend’s sister was almost the exact size as her. Arya gave Plum a sizeable sum to give to the girl in exchange. 

She had warned Gendry about her plan to wear one of her faces, and she wondered if he would notice her in the crowd. Probably not. Her disguise was quite good, she thought. Only a couple others knew of her plan, Zak, Davos, Brienne, and obviously Plum, but everyone else would be kept in ignorance. 

She sat down next to Zak in Round Hall after getting her food. He looked up at her, confused at first, and then realization hit him. “I definitely prefer your real face, m’lady. This one doesn’t suit you. It doesn’t suit anyone.”

She raised her eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?”

Zak chuckled. “Absolutely.”

“All that matters is that I don’t look like myself, so I’ll say I was successful. It’s bloody full in here tonight,” she commented. The hall was packed with almost all the bannermen from the Stormlands, and those that accompanied them. She glanced at Gendry up at the head table. He was between Davos and Brienne, whose families hadn’t arrived yet. Every minute someone would come up to their table and talk to them, but their answers were always terse. Arya thought everyone must be asking about his mysterious lady.

She turned to Zak, who had followed her gaze. He grinned. “They’re in for a long night.”

No one but Zak talked to her, and at the end of the meal, wine glasses were passed around to everyone, including her, and everyone turned their attention to Gendry, who stood.

“I want to thank everyone for coming to the announcement of my betrothal. I know you’ve all been waiting for it since I arrived,” he paused here, and several lords yelled in agreement while the others laughed. “Sers Davos and Brienne and I have determined that when all the banners arrive, I shall share with all of you who has consented to become the new Lady of Storm’s End.”

A man with a long white beard stood. “Just tell us one thing, m’lord: is the lady currently here among us?” 

Gendry smiled. “I’ll tell you two things about my betrothed. She is here in Storm’s End and she comes from a great House. We will drink to her now,” he said quickly as he lifted his cup. They all followed suit. “To my lady, the future Lady of Storm’s End.” As soon as Gendry drank, the rest did.

Gendry looked around the hall while the others finished their drinks. He met her eyes at one point but quickly moved on.

Arya spent the rest of the feast making jokes with Zak, and others joined in and sat next to them, completely ignorant of her true identity. 

“Who’s your lady tonight, Zak,” Gendry asked. She hadn’t seen him approach their table. He sat next to her, a spot that had been recently vacated by Andrue, who had left to take his walk with Plum on the beach. He was smiling at her.

“Oh, I don’t claim her. Much too plain for me,” Zak explained, a knowing look on his face.

Arya swatted his arm. “It’s not nice to speak of a lady as such. Plain.” She turned to Gendry. “Do you think me plain, m’lord.”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked her over. She shot him an inscrutable look. He had to know it was her, even if she hadn’t shown him her face for the night. “I wonder what you look like underneath your mask?”

She leaned towards him. “Perhaps quite pretty,” she teased.

He squinted at her and smiled. “I hope so. I wouldn’t want my future wife to be anything but quite pretty.”

She sighed. “Men are such shallow creatures,” she commented to Zak, who held up his hands in protest. 

“I’m sure you’d like your future husband to be a good-looking sort,” Zak argued.

She shrugged. “I never gave it much thought, but I suppose it’s true.”

“So how would you rate your future husband, then,” Zak inquired.

“Yes, I would also like to know,” Gendry added, leaning in and nodding his head.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s very fine to look upon. And he should probably be on his way, before people get suspicious of him paying so much attention to some plain girl,” she warned him. No one seemed to be looking their way, but she saw no reason for them to take a chance.

“Too true. You’ll be by later, though, right,” he asked her quietly. 

“Yes, goodbye,” she said quickly, turning to Zak so she wouldn’t seem too suspicious. Gendry finally turned away, and then spotted Brienne, and walked over to talk to her.

“Young love. It makes us all damned fools,” Zak commented, looking at Gendry as he left.

“Were you in love when you were young, Zak?” Arya didn’t know anything of Zak’s past. No one seemed to know.

He turned to look at her. “Yes, m’lady. My love also died young, in battle. I swore, that very day, to become strong enough to protect those I care for against any enemy of the Stormlands.” Zak took a large sip of his wine. His eyes were stark. Arya decided not to press it. If he wanted to say more, he could.

One of the other soldiers came over and sat next to Arya. He drunkenly put his arm around her and asked her name. She roughly moved his arm off of her. She regretted not coming down armed tonight, but her weapons would give her away.

“My name is no business of yours, oaf,” she proclaimed, and the man took himself off, looking affronted. 

Zak was guffawing and slapping the table. “Oi, plain girl, you really sent him off!”

* * *

She was taking off her mask of the Waif when someone knocked. “Come in.”

Gendry quickly walked through the door and closed it. “Oh, thank the gods you took that mask off. I can’t kiss you when you look like that.”

She set the face in her trunk with her other faces, then locked it. “It’s not a mask, really. It’s a face. That girl, she stabbed me, and I killed her. I don’t regret it.” She sat down on her bed, and he sat next to her, grabbing her hands, holding them gently. “Some of my faces, they’re of people that I hated. That’s why I couldn’t be a true Faceless Man. I hate. I have feelings. I have my identity. I couldn’t be no one. But that’s what you’re supposed to be. Jaqen H’ghar, or whoever they were, said I was no one, but I’m not.” All of it was coming out all at once. She didn’t know why, but he deserved to know.

“There’s nothing wrong with any of that. Arya Stark is a much better person than a nameless assassin, in my opinion, what little it matters,” he assured her.

“I was blind for awhile. I would get beat everyday. I had to kill people. I was just a girl,” she explained blandly. “I was there when my father was executed. I didn’t see it, but I was there. I was outside the Red Wedding. I saw Nymeria on my way to King’s Landing. She had her own pack, one that I wasn’t a part of anymore. I didn’t belong anywhere. I tried to belong in Winterfell. It just wasn’t the same.” She took a deep breath, and another, until she was steady again. She looked up at him for the first time. “The Red Woman, you know I was going to kill her. If I hadn’t seen you first in Winterfell, I would have killed her for killing you. I wouldn’t have hesitated, just like I didn’t hesitate to kill the Freys and the girl whose face I wore tonight. I killed the Night King because he would’ve killed Jon and Sansa and you and everyone else I loved. I didn’t hesitate.” She paused, trying to keep her mind in order.

He rested his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want. I know I said I wanted to know, but I didn’t necessarily mean all of it right away. Unless that’s easier for you.”

“I want you to know that’s why I had to leave. I had to...unpack my thoughts, and rearrange them, so I could go on.” She looked up and he met her gaze. “That’s also why I won’t leave again. So many terrible things have happened to me, but not here. This is where I’ll be happy. That’s what I told my siblings in my scrolls. You’re my pack. Along with Davos and Brienne and Zak and Plum and everyone else. I’m the wolf, and you’re my stag, and we’ll keep this place safe together.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, softly. “Arya, I-”

She interrupted him. “Please, let’s just go to sleep. Please.”

Telling Gendry about her life and the toll it had taken on her had made her weary. He didn’t argue, and she fell asleep in his arms as she knew he lay awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing I remembered how terrible Arya's life was and it makes me want to write her a happy ending even more. 
> 
> Had to throw in some Braime in there. RIP Jaime's character development. Am I still bitter about the last season sometimes? Every day of my life.
> 
> This chapter might seem long because it is.


End file.
